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1 

For Her 



Richard Henry Savage 



RAND, McNALLY & CO., Publishers, 
Chicago and New York. 


RIALTO SERIES. No. 79. August, 1897. Quarterly. 
Entered as second-class matter at the Post Office, Chicago, 





% 




FOR HER LIFE 


A Story of St. Petersburg. 


By / 


Richard Henry Savage 


Author of “ Checked Through,” “ Lost Countess Falka,” 
“ A Modern Corsair,” etc. 


t 

0 






Chicago and New York: 
Rand, McNally & Company. 
MDCCCXCVII. 


Copyright, 1897, by Richard Henry Savage. 
All rights reserved. 


CONTENTS. 


BOOK i. 

IN THE TOILS. 

Chapter. Page. 

I — Dimitri Trepoff ’s Trust of Honor 5 

II — Her Dangerous Friends, 27 

III — In the Rapids — A Woman Scorned, 53 

IV — The Way Out ! Foul Play 80 

V — Warned and Watched 104 

BOOK II. 

IN THE BEAR’S DEN. 

VI — Digging the Mine. A Tartar’s Tricks 133 

VII — At the Opera — Recognition ! Serge Zastrow to 

the Rescue, 161 

VIII — The Sword Falls ! The Falcon Caged, .... 192 

IX — My Trial. Dimitri’s Guest. Seeking a Locksmith, 234 
X — Hermione’s Judgment! On the Bridge! A Dead 

Witch. Found at Last, 270 

BOOK III. 

LED BY LOVE. 

XI — At Tsarskoe Zeloe. General Haxo Trapped. 

Vera’s Victory! A Life for a Life, 319 

XII — The Star of Poland. Wedding Bells. Off to 

Siberia. Nemesis, 357 

XIII — The Convict Settlement at Saghalien. Hermione’s 

Ruse. On the Blue Pacific. Trepoff’s Reward, 390 


















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HER LIFE 


FOR 


BOOK I —IN THE TOILS. 


CHAPTER I. 

DIMITRI TREPOFF’S TRUST OF HONOR. 

There is nothing more suggestive of impending trouble 
in St. Petersburg, particularly in a very cozy bachelor 
apartment, than to have the lights suddenly extinguished 
in a melodramatic manner, by a frantically excited com- 
panion. And, to be also dragged into an inner room — 
the doors all quickly double-locked by the same indi- 
vidual — does not tend to compose the nerves of a Phila- 
delphia lawyer upon his travels! Yet, this is what hap- 
pened to me, Walter Grahame, Counselor-at-Law, in the 
eventful year eighteen hundred and eighty-three! 

I knew well that it was none other than my chum, 
Major Dimitri Trepoff, of the Paul Regiment, but his 
singular actions greatly alarmed me. Essentially a man 
of peace, I had been so far, very conservative in my be- 
havior upon a visit to Russia, which joined professional 
business with family affairs. “What is the matter, Dimi- 
tri ?” I whispered, as I regained my composure. I could 
not even see his cigarette in the darkness — a sign of the 
most extraordinary pressure upon his mind. 

“Grahame! unless you help me now, I am a ruined 
man! I am in danger! Get your coat on, and then we 
will slip out by the servants’ door into the street ! I may 
be followed, even now! Come at once!” 


6 


FOR HER LIFE. 


“Where are you going to take me?” I asked, with a 
certain internal shudder. He briskly said: “Just come 
along, I only wish I were as safe as you are!” And he 
failed in an attempt at a laugh — signally failed. 

“It is already half past nine,” I grumbled, “and I would 
sooner be on the gentle Schuylkill than rambling over 
your desert of a capital, with its squares, half a mile long! 
I warrant it is only another of your high-pressure so- 
ciety adventures! Some tangled intrigue of a pretty 
woman, whose face you’ll forget in a fortnight!” 

“My God! Grahame! Don’t jest! My very life is in 
danger, and my worst enemy is now on my trail!” His 
voice rang out in the agony of a man to whom I owed 
every family obligation. 

“All right, then, I’m with you!” I muttered, and in five 
minutes we were striding along in the shadows of the 
huge piles of granite buildings. We had turned several 
cori trs before Dimitri hailed a passing droschky. “To 
the Winter Garden!” he cried, sharply, and then added 
some directions in a voice which caused the driver to 
dash madly away. Striking a fusee, he quickly examined 
his watch. 

“Ah! yes! I have yet time enough!” he said, and 
wrapped his military cloak closely around him, for the 
first feathery flakes of the autumn snow were softly 
sifting down on the great city of Peter. 

“What is the matter?” I said, in English, as I grasped 
his arm. 

Major Trepoff pointed to the bewhiskered driver, and 
replied in the same tongue, “Wait till we are safe up 
there!” placing his finger on his lips. I observed him 
nervously twisting around, his furtive glances to see if 
we were being followed; and I was very glad to be soon 
safely under the well-lighted roofs of the Winter Garden, 
with its music, dames and motley crowds of pleasure 
seekers. 

“Thank heavens!” I cried. “Any one can come here, 
without the slightest fear of being compromised — polit- 
ically” It was true. The only dangers in this Russian 
Mabille were the bright-eyed condottieri of a dozen lands! 
In the gay groups of reckless dancers — among the loung- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


7 


ing promenaders — a dozen lands were represented by 
rosy free lances. There were black gypsy eyes, velvet 
as the sloe ; pale, defiant-looking Austrians, eager, hawk- 
like Parisians — and all the flotsam and jetsam of the 
whole continent washed ashore at this Ultima Thule. 

“I will bet a new hat!” I murmured, “that this romantic 
guardsman has for the fiftieth time in his gay and festive 
career drifted into a woman scrape!” But there was 
little time for reflection, as the tall grenadier dragged me 
along through the crowd, and entered a neat little eating 
booth. He had gazed for reference at a card he held in 
his hand. “Yes! yes! this is the place!” he sighed, and 
I then saw on an aiflche, the modest appellation “Du- 
rand — Restaurateur.” 

“Here we are safe!” Dimitri Trepoff sighed, as he 
tossed aside his cap, cloak and sword. “I shall order a 
fowl and a bottle of wine,” he whispered, “for appear- 
ances.” I was struck with the change which had sud- 
denly come over my debonnaire friend. In the five 
months of my extended intimacy, never before had his 
handsome, blonde face looked haggard, his eyes desper- 
ate. 

Standing there before me, six feet of splendid, stalwart 
manhood, his breast gleaming with orders, rich, noble, 
in the perfection of early manhood, at thirty-three, the 
handsome major of the Paul Regiment was a star of 
the jeunesse doree of his time. But the blue eyes 
were very haggard and haunted looking — his lips 
twitched nervously under the sweeping, golden mus- 
tache, and his hands were clenched, so that the half- 
dozen turquoise rings left deep red prints in his slim, 
white fingers. In fact, Major Trepoff was in a burning 
rage. 

“By heavens, I could throttle him !” he growled, as he 
threw himself into a chair. There was a very ugly ring 
in his voice. “A duel!” 

“Who?” I cried, in some alarm. “Now, what is it? 
Have you had a row with your chief, or is it a quarrel 
over one of those witching maids of honor at the Winter 
Palace?” 

“It’s a long story, this enmity, Grahame!” said Trepoff, 


8 


FOR HER LIFE. 


bringing out his treasured regimental cigarette case. 
“Ever since I was detached and made aide-de-camp to 
the Grand Duke, General Haxo has secretly followed 
one with his deadly resentment! 

“At Shipka Pass, my battalion took and held a hill, 
which had been lost by his brigade. My poor men earned 
me my decorations, and also this post as aide to the Grand 
Duke Michael. General Haxo, as commander of the 
Military Police in Petersburg, can not often annoy me, 
for the Grand Duke’s name passes me through all his 
vulgar formalities. And — you know the little affair of 
‘La Graziella,’” — I smiled — “That did not smooth his 
ruffled feathers! Now, Grahame, I want your advice — 
your help — your calm counsel — for Ivan Haxo has now 
the one chance of his life to effect my ruin ! He will fol- 
low me like a sleuth hound ! Of course, a duel with him 
is out of the question. My duties take me out of his 
sphere. While he has the ear of the Emperor — and waits 
on him daily — I have the protection of the Grand Duke. 
So, all these two seasons he has vainly dogged my path. 
There is but one way in which he can pay off the old 
scores — and that is to effect my final disgrace. And, now, 
devil take it!” cried the splendid young patrician, “I have 
been imprudent — damnably imprudent!” 

Trepoff strode up and down the room, as the nimble 
garcon deftly spread the table. “Send me the proprietor,” 
he sharply said. A little rotund waif of Gaul entered, 
with profound salaams; and lingering in a corner I could 
overhear their whispered colloquy in French. 

Fixing my professional eye upon the landlord, I no- 
ticed the pallor which overspread his face as he scuttled 
away. 

“Getting in deeper every moment,” muttered Trepoff, 
as he locked the door, and drew his chair up near to mine. 
He laid his ready revolver on the table beside him, and 
then earnestly said: “Break a bit of bread, and taste the 
wine. We must do so to save appearances. It is only 
to cheat the waiter! Oh, it’s all right,” he gloomily said, 
glancing at the door. “They will come for me, when she 
is here!” 

“See here, Dimitri!” I gravely remarked, “never for- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


get that you are the head of your house. Think of our 
family connection; of your brilliant future career; of 
all you have to lose !” I was beginning to be afraid of his 
behavior, and the strange precautions which savored of 
dark lantern work. “You must remember the state of 
public feeling here, and all the dangers of the time! 
What are you drifting into?” 

“I’m not drifting into anything! I have just tied a 
noose around my neck for that cruel devil to tighten — 
if he can only get hold of the loose end! I am ‘in media 
res’ now. I would not ask you, a stranger here, Gra- 
hame, to stand by me, but this thing is desperate, and 
Serge Zastrow is down at Cronstadt on his iron-clad! 
He couldn’t get leave and be here in less than three or 
four days. And by that time the woman and I may both 
be — over there,” he gloomily concluded, bending his 
thumb toward the gloomy fortress on the island. My 
teeth chattered. 

“I knew there was a woman in the case,” I said, with 
a triumphant air. 

“Certainly there is. The very handsomest woman I 
ever saw in my life, too !” he continued, with enthusiasm. 
“And she is now in full possession of my apartment, and 
I have got to get her quietly out of there to-night. It 
may cost me my life if I do not. The police, I fear, are 
watching my rooms even now!” 

I sprang to my feet. In his very rooms. 

“This is astounding,” I faltered. “What did you take 
her there for, Dimitri?” I demanded. 

“I could not help it. It was to baffle Haxo and his 
bloodhounds. I am so well known in Petersburg I would 
have been lost if I had taken her to any public place!” 
he gravely said. “And I had no other ready refuge to 
offer her then,” he gravely concluded. 

“Who is she?” I asked, with a growing alarm which I 
could not conceal. 

“I do not know! I haven’t an idea! All I know,” he 
cried, tossing away his cigarette, and striding up and 
down in a storm of emotion, “all I do know is that she is 
a friendless woman — and to me her life is now a trust of 
honor.” 


10 


FOR HER LIFE. 


“You were very unwise to rush into such a strange 
guardianship,” I hazarded, with a growing uneasiness 
for Dimitri’s safety. Highly as he was placed, so he had 
only the more to risk — and his fall would be the more 
terrible! It would spread a cloud of doubt and distrust 
over our whole connection. For, alas, his great patron, 
the Grand Duke, was known to be merciless, as regarded 
any taint of disloyalty. The shadows of the assassina- 
tion of the Emperor Alexander II. still hung as a gloomy 
pall over the Neva. 

“Grahame! It is Fate, — Fate!” solemnly said Dimitri, 
his handsome face lit up with a mournful smile. “Do 
not forget that trifles rule us. Our future is determined 
by events of a puerile character. A rotten stirrup strap 
caused perhaps a change in the fate of France, when 
the Prince Imperial died under the Zulu spears in the 
cornfield. Napoleon’s pork pie at the battle of Leipzig 
paralyzed the mind against which the whole world 
fought, in that Battle of the Nations. The chance glimpse 
of a pretty face placed Mademoiselle Eugenie Montijo on 
the greatest throne of the world for seventeen years. The 
falling down of the golden locks of the Scottish-Spanish 
lass, the imperial lover’s glimpse of that wonder dream, 
in a lonely dressing-room, lost France, Alsace and Lor- 
raine, and made the German Kaiser the modern Lord 
of the Sword. No, Grahame! We drift! Catching at 
straws, and — God knows whither this adventure will lead 
me. Perhaps to Siberia — or — the scaffold!” 

“Great God, Dimitri! You have not compromised 
yourself with her? She is not a vile adventuress!” My 
l:>lood ran cold. I quickly reflected upon the dangers 
to Dimitri of such an entanglement. Headlong youth! 

“Oh! I am not guilty!” he bitterly said. “And, more- 
over, this woman does not wish to lead me away. She 
would even now, at the risk of her own life, brave all 
to leave me free.” His breast was shaken with love’s 
agonies. 

He clutched my arm. “I must get her at once out of 
my rooms — get her away; get her out of Russia! Fate 
has strangely linked her safety to my own — and — I 
could never explain. I could not justify myself. There 


FOR HER LIFE. 


11 


is no time for such mere formalities here. The Grand 
Duke Constantine is the head of the Extraordinary 
Bureau now. I could tell you things which would freeze 
your blood. I dare not tell all I see,— all I know. I 
will not drag Serge Zastrow, either, into this! Cron- 
stadt is now doubly watched. Think of the forty young 
naval officers arrested there, — some of them have sud- 
denly disappeared.” His voice sounded gloomy and 
hollow, as he pointed across the Neva. “There is one 
building here, where scores go in, who only come out — 
at night — between four boards. Think of Lestaroff, 
hung simply because a visiting middy, a hare-brained 
young cousin, had left a portfolio in his rooms! Ah! 
no! It is for her life that I must fight; and, — for my 
honor!” The cold sweat stood out on his brow. I was 
astounded. Philadelphia rose up before me. Its sedate 
citizens slowly meandering along its slumberous thor- 
oughfares. My peaceful haunts; my embattled law- 
books; my cozy club; my friendly social circle. In the 
face of Trepoff’s grimly-evoked specters I sighed, 
“Would I were with thee!” 

“Positive I am !” I grumbled. “If this dare-devil Ro- 
meo gets out of this scrape, I will emulate the great 
Pennsylvanian McClellan — T will change my base!’ — 
and, stand not in the order of my going!” I was badly 
rattled. 

“You see, Grahame, you are the only man near me 
who can help me. An American, — a man of grave pur- 
suits; a bachelor; a man who has nothing to explain, 
nothing to fear!” His compliment to my fearlessness 
provoked such a sickly smile that even Trepoff laughed 
heartily, for my fame had not been gained — “in the im- 
minent deadly breach,” but in punishing others for 
breaches of contract, and sundry other laches. In fact, 
I had spent five months in the delightfully easy and 
pleasant official society of St. Petersburg, closing up the 
settlements of the building of the four Russian cruisers 
for use in Siberia, on the Atlantic coast. “Don’t forget, 
Trepoff, I will stand by you, — like a brick!” I remarked. 
“But, don’t forget also that I did not come over here to 
uproot your institutions; to butcher any of the royal 


12 


FOR HER LIFE. 


household. Neither, am I fond of chains.” I blushed 
as I fondled the only chain I wear — presented to me by 
a staid maiden of the city of Penn, who fondly hoped 
to cast a gentle glow over the afternoon, evening and 
twilight of my serene and tranquil life. “Now, you 
know that I am not, and will not be, classed among 
the fire-eaters! ‘Palmam qui meruit ferat!’ With me 
the pen is mightier than all your swords. I wish to shed 
nothing but ink, in this weary world. What can I do 
for you!” The imperilling of my life for an unknown 
beauty seemed to have no “quid pro quo.” 

Trepoff stopped, fixed his eyes upon me, and calmly 
said: “You can take her away from my rooms to-night; 
and then, help me to hide her, or shield her, till I can get 
her over the frontier! For, I am not safe now, unless 
she gets away.” It was a sweetly promising situation 
for an engaged man ! 

“And if you should be caught!” I said, gravely, for his 
face was very stern and sorrowful. I pitied the mournful 
lover. “Then I would have saved my honor, even if 
my life paid the forfeit!” he said, springing up, as a knock 
at the door recalled us. “Stay here!” he cried, ignoring 
my muttered impious remark. “Damned fantastic no- 
tion! Honor before Life! sounds very like the Three 
Guardsmen!’” But he continued: “I will see this wo- 
man here! It’s nearly half-past ten! And then, I can 
explain, after we meet at my rooms. I have a plan to 
arrange for her safety — for to-night!” He darted out 
and left me alone. I mechanically drained half a flask 
of Burgundy as I wrathfully surveyed the growing en- 
tanglement. I lit a cigar and reflected upon the way- 
wardness of Fate’s frolics with mankind — the mere 
pawns of destiny. Trepoff’s oldest brother, a retired 
Commander of the Navy, had spent some time in Amer- 
ica, overseeing the construction of the four cruisers, at 
the Capes of the Delaware. He had improved that leis- 
ure by making me a sort of an American-Russian in feel- 
ing, when he married my sister Justine, and took her 
away from the polished door-knobs, green blinds, and 
glistening marble steps of Philadelphia, to preside over 
his beautiful estate of Mon Plaisir, near Kief. And so 


FOR HER LIFE. 


13 


this gallant freed officer of the Paul Regiment, had been 
a brother in heart to me during my siege of the Depart- 
ments in successfully closing up the affairs of my Amer- 
ican clients. I had looked forward to a charming win- 
ter in Paris, Rome, and Vienna, with my ward and pet 
sister Madeleine, who only awaited the spring’s flowers 
to make a visit with me to Justine’s beautiful retreat at 
Kief. I was in no mood for wild adventures. Justine 
was already in Paris, and our winter tour of travel was 
laid out. My demure Quaker maiden claimed me for a 
coming wedding. My business had admirably pro- 
gressed, thanks to Dimitri Trepoff’s ready aid, and the 
pleasant smoothing over of all the asperities due to his 
charming English and untiring friendly efforts. I hoped 
to see South Russia myself, for Justine had written me, 
“Our land will wear its mantle of snows; our forests are 
now bare; our trees leafless; our birds and roses fled 
with the blossoms of last year. But wait, wait, for the 
magic voice of spring! The breath of the rose makes 
the incensed air a delight; the birds sing never so sweet- 
ly, and all our plains and glades are starred with the blue 
forget-me-nots! You will have all this, and a Russian 
welcome!” As I preferred a few months with pretty 
Madeleine and the demure Justine, in the flowery paradise 
of Mon Plaisir, to arguing dry demurrers, in the very 
teeth of astute legal enemies. And so, I did not fancy 
Dimitri Trepoff’s “deed without a name!” It looked 
wildly quixotic. 

“Decidedly! I was not cut out for a conspirator!” I 
growled, as I saw the bottom of the bottle, and then 
followed Trepoff out of the room, without a word, when 
his eager face graced the doorway. I turned up my col- 
lar and pulled my hat over my brows. My lugubrious 
air was so comical that Trepoff laughed, “Come along, 
Grahame. You look like a chiffonier in love! It isn’t 
as bad as all that!” And the light-hearted guardsman 
pulled me along through a crowd of smiling Aspasias, 
Phrynes, and Venus types of continental diversity, whose 
saucy eyes boldly challenged us to abide with them. It 
was evident that many of them knew Dimitri Trepoff, 
for wine, roses, and laughing love waited on that devil- 


14 


FOR HER LIFE. 


may-care young patrician’s path. Our closed carriage 
was a far different affair to the open droschky we had at 
first used. I soon saw by the narrowed streets, the dark- 
ness, and felt by the roughness of the stones, that we 
were in by lanes of the huge octopus of the Neva. I had 
in my mind the Schuylkill and the Delaware, peacefully 
gliding, and I hugely preferred their gentle flow to 
“Abana and Pharphar — rivers of Damascus;” all the 
“sweet waters of the Golden Horn,” or the dark flowing 
Neva, across which I could see the twinkling lights of 
the great fortress, with the tall church spires piercing the 
blue star-lit air. I glared at my dear comrade Trepoff, 
his eyes eagerly strained out in the darkness. I thought 
of a great Czar’s son strangled there by the common 
executioner, while the mad genius Peter justified his deed 
over his cups. I shuddered, for the lonely woman now 
hidden in Trepoff ’s rooms, for the brave soldier whose 
headlong gallantry had won my heart, as well as gained 
an empire over the palpitating bosoms of countless of 
the gay dames of Russia ; and I mournfully thought also 
of my own plight. It has been my rueful experience to 
be always considered as a reliable “stand-by,” and to go 
through much toil and tribulation, in the varied affairs 
of other fellows, who have reaped all the plenteous har- 
vest of gratitude, — laurels, roses, witching smiles, and 
myrtle, — while I have been left with — much experience 
of a varied order. “Trepoff!” I remarked; and I here 
tried to be impressive: “I don’t exactly fancy this.” 
“Hush!” he sharply said. “Keep quiet! Here she is!” 
And, as we paused a moment, in the angle of a dark cor- 
ner, a woman glided into our carriage. A bulky bundle 
was in her hand! There was nothing in her manner to 
indicate aught above the working woman; her dress was 
that of the woman in the tiers etat, but the glibness of her 
conversation, in half French, half Russian, with my com- 
panion! “Another mysterious woman!” I grumbled, as 
I resigned myself to an apparent doze in a corner of the 
vehicle. “I will ignore the whole affair!” I resolutely 
decided. “My connection with it, I will make of the 
very briefest character.” A prediction of my foolish self- 
confidence, which was destined to be very ruthlessly de- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


15 


molished by untoward facts sweeping down on me, from 
the dark unknown, and towering over me, in the gloom 
of that night, like an iceberg over a doomed bark. 

I felt from my brief survey, that the rich-voiced wo- 
man, now earnestly engaged in converse with Trepoff, 
was in the bloom of life and courage ; and her alert man- 
ner indicated her to be a French woman. “I hope she 
will take the other one away — for good!” was my pious 
ejaculation. “It is not befitting a member of the Phila- 
delphia Bar to be flying around at night, with gay 
guardsmen, mysterious dames, and on the ragged edge 
of dangerous conspiracy. I — ” 

Here I was stopped by a jolt of the carriage, as we 
drew up at Trepoff’s splendid private quarters. “Quick! 
quick!” he flashed out. “Not a moment’s delay!” The 
woman at my side sprang past us, and as the dvornik 
opened the doors of Trepoff’s private stairway, in the 
great granite apartment house, she flitted up the stair, 
hooded and veiled. The grin of the house official was 
visibly broadened, as he stood there in a flood of yellow 
light, gazing sheepishly at me. There was evidently no 
Don Juan adventure in my own case; but I was tired and 
wearied. It was now past eleven. Still, I was not al- 
lowed to collect the legal mind. Trepoff drew me at 
once into his little smoking room. “Now, Walter,” he 
said, and his face gleamed ghastly pale; “I have to risk 
my very life on your discretion — your honor! In two 
minutes a woman will be in the parlor, dressed in the 
clothes of the person whom we brought here! Will you 
go with her where she wishes to go, simply conducting 
her, in safety? You need not speak to her. I did not 
wish you to complicate yourself too far. In case of any 
questioning, I can tell you that she speaks English.” I 
was paralyzed. 

“And if we should be stopped or questioned?” I fal- 
tered. “Then,” he said, solemnly, “let her decide on her 
own course! You are well known here to be a respect- 
able foreigner, under the shadow of your legation. All 
that you have to do, is to remain silent. You could not 
get in any serious trouble to-night. She might be sac- 
rificed! God help her!” he groaned. “But you are safe! 


16 


FOR HER LIFE. 


Don’t wait a moment when she comes! Be sure to take 
another carriage ! Pay this new man off, and then with 
another come back here! I will wait. I have already 
telegraphed to Serge Zastrow to come up at once” 
What could I do in these premises? I mumbled some- 
thing; and yet my words were unavailing. I had lost 
my court flippancy, for I could professionally gaze in 
the eye of the sternest American judge, without flinch- 
ing. I knew, “off the bench,” that these wearers of the 
ermine gambolled and disported themselves much, — very 
much ; too much, in fact, — like other mortals. But I had 
never looked into the fishy blue eyes of a cold-hearted 
Russian judge, and, moreover, I did not care to. “Will 
you have a revolver?” said Trepoff, picking up one from 
his table of arms and various bachelor litter. “What 
for?” I blankly said. He smiled sadly, for he was well 
aware that I would not discharge it. Even upon bail! 
I sighed for just one half-hour of a Republican (or Dem- 
ocratic!) form of government. I would have used it to 
carefully secrete myself where neither Trepoff, his mys- 
terious “charge of honor,” nor the extra “woman in 
black,” could find me, “with a forty-foot pole” — as we 
neatly remark in the Land of Penn. But I sprang up 
as the door slowly opened, and Major Dimitri Trepoff 
sprang tenderly to the side of a woman, whose face was 
now hidden in the double folds of a dark veil. Accus- 
tomed, I flatter myself, to quickly “take in surround- 
ings,” I observed that the new-comer lent a statuesque 
beauty to the dark-hued borrowed robes; that Major 
Trepoff had passionately kissed her two hands, which I 
could see were slender and daintily gloved, and that her 
step was as light as a snowflake when she followed me 
down the stairs. A last few words in Russian, ex- 
changed with Trepoff, seemed to breathe the fond sigh 
of a parting soul. “This thing has made a considerable 
progress,” I stubbornly murmured; as, raising my eyes, 
I saw Trepoff s face between the parted curtains. His 
own man had opened the doors for us! I gazed around, 
with a frightened glance, as I stepped up to the carriage 
door, and vainly tried to see the proverbial lurking 
“minions of tyranny” darting around in the weird per- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


17 


formances which such people affect upon the stage. I 
did not see any one gyrating about in that mysterious 
manner with forces all within a practicable radius, to ob- 
serve the “sbirriT 

“Alas! In the snug land of Peter, the “myrmidons” 
can scoop one up, gently, at will, at any time. If I flat- 
tered myself that I was unobserved, it was not the first 
time in my life that my vain imaginings have betrayed 
me. And so, I presume it will ever be, while I practice 
my delightful profession “upon this wrinkled sphere.” I 
was both delighted and amazed, as we rolled out upon 
the brilliantly-lit Nevsky Perspectiv. We were safe — so 
far! Four Cossacks, mounted, on guard at the street 
corners, sitting motionless on their statuesque ponies, 
seemed to be selecting victims from the stream of pass- 
ers-by. For, with a repeating carbine, a sword, a re- 
volving pistol, a long dagger, and a twelve-foot lance, 
these forbidding-looking fellows seemed fitted up for 
“carnage in any form.” I distrusted their too business- 
like air of readiness, and I particularly disliked the steel- 
blue gleam of their lance-heads in the crystalline night. 
“As far as I go, they might as well leave those things at 
home. They add nothing to the appearance of my 
friends from the Don and the Volga,” — so I mused. I 
was growing cheerful as we drove smartly down into the 
heart of the city. I even began to dismiss my fears, for 
I am of a cheerful temperament. “Th.is masquerading 
lady will pass out of my life, — forever, — to-night!” I 
thought. “She has neatly disguised herself; she will 
give these people the slip; and she will only remain a 
graceful, nameless shade!” The very reputation of Di- 
mitri Trepoff guaranteed that. There was something in 
her dainty presence — in the thrill of her near proximity; 
in the splendid ripples of her dark brown hair and the 
flash of her eyes — that told me she was both young and 
handsome! It is that charming division of Eve’s daugh- 
ters who usually get into all kinds of mysterious trouble 
I have noticed, even in my own sober career. Lean also 
state that a devout faith, duly kept to the demure divinity 
then pondering, in Philadelphia, over my future (at least 
so I fondly hoped), had not kept me from a certain dash 
2 


18 


FOR HER LIFE. 


of the man of the world. In this brief ride, while the 
eyes of my silent companion were flashed upon me, in 
mute appeal, I was aware of a deliciously compounded 
perfume which evidently was her royal personal affecta- 
tion. I was in a semi-dream, yielding unconsciously to 
the feminine fascinations of this disguised beauty; I was 
analyzing all that I knew of Oriza, Lubin, Pinaud, Gos- 
nell, Atkinson, and other deft compounders of toned fra- 
grance, when the unmistakable sound of violent sob- 
bing brought back to me the darkest overhanging clouds 
of sorrow, danger and trouble! Perhaps, even Death’s 
dark wings were now unfolded to swoop down upon the 
graceful fugitive at my side ! And so, my heart went out 
to her — at once! 

I, Walter Grahame, advocate, of Philadelphia, can 
stand with equanimity many of the ills that flesh is heir 
to! The needless sorrows of a child, the bitter tears of a 
woman, always melt a heart, still very human, after years 
spent with the Pandects of Justinian; the pleasing re- 
flections of Coke; the cheerful chirp of Blackstone, and 
the thrilling remarks (in four volumes, with copious 
notes) of Chancellor Kent! I do not, even now, recall 
my guiding purpose ; but I do know, that I was very soon 
busied in the rashest and most earnest proffers of all 
that lay in my power to aid a woman whom I had as yet 
never even seen. My voice was heartfelt in its broken 
emotion. I only know that she spoke gratefully in re- 
turn. Her words breathed like the summer wind stir- 
ring the forest! They echoed in my heart! The im- 
port of her replies; her mention of Dimitri Trepoff’s 
name; even her caution, was of no avail. “I will do 
all I can! We will not desert you!” In my poor way, 
I was replacing the dashing soldier, and the presence of 
a soft-clinging hand sent the blood bounding through 
my professional veins! Far quicker, far happier, the 
tide moved than on the announcement of a “favorable 
verdict.” I had for once forgotten the calm, pure 
stream of the law. The lights of Philadelphia had faded 
from my memory, when, to my utmost astonishment, we 
drew up before the great Italiansky Bazaar! It was still 
crowed with a thousand wanderers, gazing into its one 


FOR HER LIFE. 


19 


hundred shops under one giant roof. The Gastiny 
Dvor opposite, the great Cathedral of Kazan, and the 
Ministry of Justice were thronged with sentinels and po- 
lice agents. “She cannot be afraid of anything, just at 
present!” I murmured, as I fumbled for some money, 
and then dismissed the coachman with an imperative 
gesture. A little hand was slipped within my arm, and 
I was promenading grandly down the interior of the 
Italiansky Bazaar, before I realized the purport of her 
hurried whisper, “Betray no concern! Come with me! 
I will leave you very soon!” We walked down the left 
side of the great passage, and then drifted back almost 
into the open doorway, where we had entered from the 
Nevsky. A quiver of her fingers tightening on my arm, 
showed me now and then that my veiled companion 
scented danger, as people craned their heads, all eagerly 
gazing under her doubled veil. For she could not dis- 
guise her queenly sweeping stride; her graceful outlines 
belied, too, the humble garb of the woman with whom 
she had exchanged dresses. A gay intrigue was the gen- 
eral verdict. “Here!” she whispered, as with a furtive 
glance, she turned into a neat little shop where a 
gilded sign, “Articles de Paris,” was supplemented by 
a neat array of toilet furnishings in the two front win- 
dows, behind which, neat muslin curtains cut off the 
interior of the shop from the view of the hundreds 
thronging the Bazaar. “Ah!” I divined the reason 
at once. The fair patricians of Petersburg would fain 
be screened from the vulgar as they dally over the 
purchase of rouge, poudre de riz, Fay’s veloutine, and 
all the fards of Ind, and beauty compellers of the dainty 
art preservative! But the one dark-robed shop girl 
within, simply flashed a single parthian glance at me, as 
I followed the mysterious unknown into the little room, 
behind the shop. When I had passed the portal, closed 
by a glass door, also muslin-covered, with tasty berib- 
boned rosettes, I was speedily recalled to a sense of my 
new responsibilities. 

The fair fugitive locked the door, and then, speaking 
in an intense agitation, grasped my manly arm with two 
little hands whose fingers sank into my flesh. I could 


20 


FOR HER LIFE. 


see that her nerve was failing; for she was tottering. I 
held her in my supporting arms, as she sank into a seat 
and then whispered, “Go now! But walk around the 
Bazaar, once or twice, and go out on the Italiansky 
Boulevard — not the Nevsky! Take a little fiacre, and 
stop a square from Trepoff’s! For God’s sake! linger 
near till you are sure that you are not followed! Drive 
around the town for a half an hour before going back 
to him! And when I give the word ‘Now!’ on your 
honor as a gentleman, keep your eyes closed, until the 
girl knocks! I have a signal for her. Now we part — 
perhaps forever! Never forget that my last words were, 
God bless you, brave American!” 

“But, Dimitri!” I cried, siezing her trembling hand in 
mine. “He knows how to meet me, and where! He 
knows that my very life is his, for a grateful woman 
would give up her own sad life to save him, now! Ah! 
God! If they should suspect him — should arrest him! 
I will tell him all! I shall see him again! He will not 
be warned — be dissuaded!” She feared only for her 
lover. 

“And you?” I muttered. “What is to become of you?” 
My own heart was beating unnecessarily fast. I had for- 
gotten all those aphorisms of legal prudence which were 
my daily pride — in Philadelphia! But here I was, 
charmed by the self-pictured witchery of a strange wo- 
man’s beauty. I was in Petersburg, and had been per- 
meated with the strange intoxication which, had made 
Dimitri Trepoff gage his name, reputation; nay, even 
his life itself, upon the worth of a chance-met Delilah! 
“Prison, torture, Siberia’s horrors, a nameless grave, 
may await me,” she said. “But my last prayer will be 
for Dimitri Trepoff! In my last hour, I shall see your 
own manly generous face! We must part now — it may 
be forever!” Her sigh was softer than the rustling of 
the drifting autumn leaf. “Never!” I cried. “You are 
in danger! I am his relative! His only comrade here, 
now! I go back to him! You shall be saved! and, I 
will help him!” 

“If I could only leave Russia; if I could only throw 
off this pursuit!” she faltered, “There is but one man 


FOR HER LIFE. 


21 


alive, in Russia, who knows me! They told me that he 
was in the far Caspian! He alone could recognize and 
identify me! If I could but brave them,— could pass 
that shadow line of doom, the frontier, — then, — I am 
young, the world is wide, and life is still sweet! If that 
one man is not here, I may baffle them yet.” 

“Listen!” I cried, grasping her two wrists. “I will 
aid Trepoff ! I am going out of the country soon, to join 
my sister in Paris! I will stand by him, and stand by 
you! He knows your story — the reason of your strange 
plight!” 

“All that I dare tell him!” the beauty I had mentally 
pictured, sobbed. “All I dare tell him, without imperil- 
ling his honor, without exposing all of a woman’s frantic 
rashness, — not her shame, not her crime! I am guilt- 
less of the blood of man, of craving for it! I stand here, 
perhaps a sacrifice — a voluntary self-sacrifice — to help 
the helpless! God help us all!” she moaned. “Now, 
you must go !” she murmured. “At any moment I might 
be seized even here! And you! — ” 

“I will go,” I hoarsely whispered, “when I have once 
seen your face. Trepoff says that I must now stand by 
him to the death! Let me see the face, for which that 
gallant man would die, that I may know you here on 
earth again!” “Or, in the next world!” she said, in a 
smothered voice, with her slender hand upon her dark 
veil. “Listen now, and obey!” she replied, with the faint 
ring of a distant coquetry, the charm of woman’s easy 
empire, in her splendidly modulated voice. Its accents 
thrilled me to the very heart. “ I will trust you, as I do 
that other noble heart! As I have to face my foes, I 
should not fear a true friend! Remember what I said. 
When I say ‘Now!’ close your eyes, and — obey!” I 
kissed the little fingers which trembled as she held the 
heavy folds of the veil, and hastily cried, “I promise!” 1 
“On the honor of an American!” she softly said. “I 
do!” I eagerly answered. My pulses were throbbing 
wildly. Even a lawyer’s heart can thrill! 

With one sweep of her hand, she drew aside the thick 
veil, and all the glowing soul of the woman was flashed 
on me, as her beautiful wistful face was mantled with a 


22 


FOR HER LIFE. 


tender smile! Her parted lips, her tender dark eyes, 
her rose-shaded cheek, were lit up with all the glamour 
of the early springtide of womanly loveliness. She 
whispered, “Tell him I shall dream of him to-night — shall 
pray for him!” I was silent, spell-bound; and the soft 
whisper, “Now!” closed my eyes upon the picture of a 
beauty which has ever lingered in my heart since that 
eventful night. I heard nothing but a slight click, a 
gliding sound, the murmur “God bless you!” and, it 
seemed an age until a sharp knock woke me from a wild 
dream! I sprang to the door! With nervously trem- 
bling fingers I opened it, and one glance told me that 
the room was vacant. My beautiful charge had van- 
ished! There was nothing now in sight, save the glass 
cases filled with the mysterious gallipots of Pinaud and 
his confreres. “We are about to close!” remarked the 
young shop woman, in the familiar accents of Paris. I 
gazed about me. On a chair lay a pair of little gloves. 
I had seen them on the slender hands which swept aside 
that disfiguring veil. “A last token that you are not 
a sweet dream, I will take them, for Trepoff!” I muttered 
as I thrust them deep in my bosom. And the faint lin- 
gering favorite perfume of the vanished one was with 
me once more as I hid the dainty gloves. She seemed 
to be an embodied love dream! 

In a vacant dazed manner I followed out her strict in- 
junctions. I heard the bells clang out midnight, as I 
rolled away along the Italianskaia. I mumbled some 
useless orders, and I was far beyond the Anitchikoff 
Bridge, and driving along the Troitsky Perspectiv, be- 
fore I asked myself “Where the dickens did she vanish 
to? She could not hide herself in a fan case, or a powder 
box!” It was not the only mystery of my Petersburg 
life! 

Lights were gleaming in Dimitri Trepoff ’s grand 
apartment, “au premier,” as I briskly walked down from 
the canal bridge, where I had left my isvostchik staring at 
his “crazy Englishman” who gave him unsolicited a dou- 
ble-fare! The Russians of the lower order seem to fancy 
that all foreigners are bereft of their senses, — a compli- 
ment heartily returned by the outside barbarians. 


FOR HER LIFE. 


23 


I ran by the sleepy Dvorhik, with the snap salutation, 
.“Barin domo?” He was back on his sheep skin rug, 
and curled up before I joined the anxious Trepoff, whom 
1 found prancing the room like a tiger. 

Professionally, I detest all hurry and impatience. It 
was very late; I was tired and chilled. A cup of strong 
coffee and one of Trepoff’ s own superb cigarettes, how- 
ever, enabled me to minutely detail the occurrences of 
my secret trip to the Bazaar. Dimitri was pale. “This 
house is watched, — now !” he quietly said, as he rose and 
swept back his tangled locks, with a nervous hand. “I 
am glad you got away so promptly !” “And what have 
you done with the extra woman, — the other?” I remem- 
bered his strange woman assistant in this dangerous 
masquerade. Trepoff laughed heartily. “I sent my man 
out, and had a closed carriage wait a couple of blocks 
away, on the corner of the Jardin Alexandre. With her 
bundle, the woman you left here, then sallied out, and 
was stopped and closely questioned. Alone, at the late 
hour, her story was that of a returning dressmaker going 
home after a day’s hard toil. My own man drove her 
to a distant nest, at a friend’s house! And so, I had a 
report that she is all right. Nothing can be feared from 
her. She has papers, and a home. And, the truest of 
the true !” 

“Who is she, Dimitri?” I questioned. He fixed his 
eyes on me. “Her name is Marie Durand. She is the 
wife of the restaurateur, the keeper of the place where 
we supped at the Winter Garden.” A light broke upon 
me. It was a secret haunt of a nameless clan! 

“And the proprietor of the shop in the Bazaar, ‘Arti- 
cles de Paris?” etc., etc. “Precisely!” he said, dryly. 
“You have guessed it! It is a busy family!” 

“Look here, Dimitri!” I remarked impressively. “You 
are getting into very deep water here! Yes, very deep 
water!” I relapsed into a shrouded gloom. The late 
hour, the fatigue and unwonted excitement, and the 
sense of “certain obligations” far away over the Atlan- 
tic’s green rolling billows sobered me. Romance ceased 
to claim me as her child! And the wonderful witching 
eyes were no longer shining star-like on me. They 


24 


FOR HER LIFE. 


were only shining in Dimitri TrepofFs soul, for I had 
handed him the gloves, without a word! Her mute 
token! Her hand! 

“You will not abandon her! — nor desert me in this 
matter! I dare not use Serge Zastrow’s help openly! But, 
Grahame, there must be discovered a safe way out! I 
have sworn to aid her in crossing the frontier! And 
you will help me?” 

I paused. “You know her story, or think you do!” 
I said severely. The magic glow was failing rapidly; 
her face had faded behind the clouds of this exciting 
night. “I know all that she would entrust to me, now!” 
he devotedly answered. “The rest, I will know some 
day!” he vigorously cried. “And, if you are separated?” 
I dubiously asked. “I will follow her to the end of the 
earth, to listen to her, when she calls me back to her!” 
the guardsman said. “And, if you are being deceived?” 
I hazarded. Dimitri Trepoff stopped before me, and 
his eyes glowed in a strange, fierce fire. “I will risk 
my life on that woman’s honor!” he cried, as his eyes 
silenced all my cautious objections. I had found once 
more my semi-professional manner. “You are risking 
your grade, your very future; perhaps even your life!” 
I remarked, “for her, already! Suppose that you tell 
me how she so suddenly became your trust of honor!” 

“I will tell you briefly,” he said, throwing himself into 
a chair, and covering his face with his hands. “I was on 
duty at the Marble Palace this afternoon, in waiting 
upon His Highness, who was attending the public levee 
of his princely brother, the Grand Duke Constantin Nic- 
olaievitch. My own carriage was in waiting at the pri- 
vate entrance, and I was at alone in the aide-de-camp’s 
room; for I had been dismissed, as the Grand Duke 
purposed to remain and dine with his brother! The 
spectacle of a beautiful half-fainting woman, wandering 
into the room, and sinking half-fainting in a chair, 
startled me beyond all measure! I had hardly sprung 
to her side, and said in French, ‘You are ill, Madame! 
Can I be of assistance?’ when she murmured, ‘I am lost, 
if I remain here! Help me to leave this palace! — at 
once! — for God’s sake! as you are a man!’ 


FOR HER LIFE. 


25 


“I was astounded! The gravity of the times flashed 
over me! You know, Grahame, that dozens of people 
have disappeared from the streets, — from the very salons 
here, — and no tales of their dark travels have ever again 
reached the broken hearts of friends! There was such 
an appalling agony in her face that I said, “I have a car- 
riage of my own here! Will you allow me?” Seizing 
my pelisse and sword, I hurried her down the private 
staircase! The two sentinels presented arms as I hur- 
ried her to my carriage. She had muffled her face in 
fear. As I closed the door, and mechanically nodded 
to my coachman, he lashed the horses, and then I peered 
through the rear window! There were two men stand- 
ing on the steps at the foot of the covered arcade, and 
gesticulating wildly. One, I recognized at once, as my 
enemy, General Haxo, who was present at the fete, as 
chief of the military police. The other, was also in a 
General’s uniform. I fancied, at first, they were only 
calling to their coachman, but, when the sentinels began 
to run in our direction, I cried through the tube, to Ivan : 
‘Home as fast as you can!’ The woman at my side was 
now in a swoon of fright. Her fears were quicker than 
my eyesight. I was undecided as to what I should do, 
when we had turned out of the glare of the lights of the 
Palace Square into the evening darkness of the streets. 
She was in a storm of sorrow, and her tears and sobs rent 
my soul. 

“You have seen her, Grahame! The terror on her face 
unmanned me! I listened in a dream to the few sen- 
tences which she whispered. ‘I must be alone! I must 
have shelter till I can communicate with my friends!’ she 
said. Now, I dared not drive her to any public place! 
I feared she might swoon again. ‘I live at some dis- 
tance,’ she said. ‘I am in the gravest trouble; and, I 
must communicate at once with my friends, before I go 
home! It is my life!’ 

“It suddenly flashed on my mind that the safest place 
for her was in my own apartment. My trusty old Ser- 
geant never leaves my rooms while I am away. I was 
obliged to return to the Palace in two hours, at the ex- 
piration of the dinner. That would disarm all suspicion. 


26 


FOR HER LIFE. 


I offered her the shelter of my apartment, and then told 
her frankly of my duties. ‘I can send my man out for 
you with any message. He is faithful to the death!' I 
cried, for I could not bear to abandon a lonely human 
being, in her evident fear and terror, to such a fate as 
awaits the victims of the Repression Laws ! Guilty or inno- 
cent, she was yet a woman. My strange ward!" 

“Arrived at my apartment, the entrance was effected 
fortunately. The dvornik had left the doors all unlatched, 
and, he never turned his head as we passed up the stair. 
In fifteen minutes, old Sergeant Ivan was gone with her 
message and a parcel to be left at the Italiansky Bazaar. 
The very place which you visited with her! When the 
carriage dashed away, she seemed to have gained a new 
life. Before the old man had returned with a brief scrawl, 
which she burned in my own presence, she had told me 
what I must not even tell you now — as to the necessity 
of her escaping unseen. 

“I insisted upon her gaining a needed rest, and then 
having some refreshments. It was only by hiding her in 
charge of my devoted old body servant, until my return, 
that I gained her consent not to dare to venture forth 
till my return from the Marble Palace. My presence 
for fifteen minutes with my chief was the close of my 
daily duties. My excited mind was in a whirl as I re- 
gained the Marble Palace. I was careful to enter the 
palace by the grand stairway, for the levee was over. 
When I was dismissed by my chief, with orders to report 
at orderly hour to-morrow, as usual, at the Staken- 
schneider Palace on the Neva, I walked down again to 
the Aide-de-Camp’s room to find my cigarette case, 
which I had left behind in my hurry. Face to face, I then 
met the cold-faced martinet, General Ivan Haxo, and 
with him a cavalry General, a man I don’t know. He’s 
a half-Polish fellow, just back from the Caspian; a staff 
General now, so I am told.” 

Trepoff paused, and gloomily twisted a fresh cigarette. 
He resumed with a sigh: “I could not help but hear 
these words as I entered, Tt was she, one face in a 
thousand! I’ve good reason not to forget!’ The moment 
I came on them, Haxo fixed his eye steadily on mine. 


FOR HER LIFE. 


27 


“ ‘I beg pardon, Major Trepoff; were you on duty 
here this afternoon, at the levee?’ 

“ ‘I was,’ I replied, as calmly as I could, for the stranger 
General was eyeing me superciliously from head to foot, 
and Haxo did not even introduce him. I knew, then, it 
was only a matter of duty. 

“ ‘Did you see any one — any strange lady — lurking 
here in these rooms this afternoon?’ he continued. 

“ ‘I fail to understand you, General,’ I answered, with 
some coldness. 

“ ‘It is a matter of simple duty,’ he significantly said. 
‘A suspicious person was observed moving in this direc- 
tion! She could not have otherwise escaped. The ut- 
most importance is attached to finding out the reason 
of her presence in this palace!’ 

“ ‘I saw no suspicious person!’ I boldly answered. 

“ ‘She could only have left by this private door!’ the 
stranger General calmly said, in a sneering voice; and, 
then, Haxo flatly demanded, ‘Who was the lady who 
drove away with you in your own carriage.’ 

“Seeing that I was discovered, with two pairs of musco- 
vite eyes resting upon me, I said, ‘It was a lady relative 
of my own, whom I sent in my own carriage to her 
home.’ 

“ ‘Ah!’ quietly said Haxo, as he held up a handkerchief. 
‘She was unfortunate enough to lose this!’ He presented 
it to me with a low bow. “Now, Grahame,” said Trepoff, 
“I see trouble ahead! Get you home! I’ll see you at 
your rooms early in the morning. You know all the need 
of my concealing this woman’s identity — wait for me at 
your rooms!” And, I slept none that eventful night. 


CHAPTER II. 

HER DANGEROUS FRIENDS. 

“Now, Grahame!” said the handsome Major, next 
morning, as he achieved a hasty breakfast, long before 
I had finished my dressing. “I must be on the alert! I 


28 


FOR HER LIFE. 


may hear of this awkward thing at orderly hour. If the 
Grand Duke speaks to me about it, I must beware! One 
foolish word — one false motion — and I am lost! I feel, 
I know, this poor hunted one’s friends are dangerous! 
I dare not be the means of communicating with them! 
I will not, now, tell you that she, Hermione — for her 
name is Hermione — trusted to me, alone, last night, be- 
fore I sought your ready aid. Suffice it to say, that she 
was forced to go into the Marble Palace to meet a person 
who had an important message for her, on which her 
safety and her departure from Russia depended; where, 
by hazard, she became the object of a sudden veiled pur- 
suit. Her very life depended upon instantly leaving the 
ill-chosen place for her conference! Still, the great halls 
of the Royal Palace, at a public levee, are supposedly 
open to the public world of all loyal Peters- 
burg! Now, I can not yet say,” gloomily said Trep- 
off, “if any of Haxo’s smart underlings have 
marked me down after leaving the archway with 
her in my carriage. The soldiers, spies, and secret 
agents, all know my face. I must! I will, save her! I 
dare not now go to the Italiansky Bazaar. I count on 
you, at least until Serge Zastrow is here. You must act 
as my friend — as a life saver — as this woman’s friend!” 

“Dimitri!” said I as I gazed at his bright, enthusiastic 
face, over which the shades of feeling played rapidly, “I 
ask but one thing, how do you know that you are not 
being made the unwitting agent of deadly schemes in 
this?” 

“She has given me her word of honor. She has laid 
her hand on the cross!” he cried, “and sworn that her 
only object in life is now to peaceably leave Russia, and 
that she has no further trust, no burden, upon her mind 
and soul! I can not, I will not, abandon her!” he 
swears. “She has been with me in my dreams all the 
livelong night!” 

“I understand you, then!” I cried, as I rose and passed 
out into the cold, wintry morning. It was a hopeless 
case with Trepoffi He was a sworn knight now. The 
streets were covered with a thin, ragged fall of snow. “I 


FOR HER LIFE. 


29 


am then to help you to effect her safe departure from this 
land of snows?” 

“You must aid me,” he replied, “or else she is lost! I 
can not rest until I know that she is far over the line. And 
you alone must help me, for I shall be watched perhaps 
for months — for years! If the confidence of the Grand 
Duke is broken, then I am lost, and so I must save her 
now to save myself! I can have Serge help me later, — 
but, as I am tied down, I need your instant aid — to save 
her — to preserve myself. No suspicion can attach to you, 
Walter!” he said, fondly — and, he then closed with a 
very neat compliment to my professional character, — my 
eminently prudent course in Petersburg society, — and 
the perfect freedom of movement which I enjoyed, as a 
citizen of a great and glorious Republic! Flattered by 
the voice of this military charmer, moved by his concern 
for the comet-like vision of vanished loveliness, and, led 
on by some strangely roused chivalric feeling of my 
own, I said, “Dimitri, I will see you through this! — and, — 
stand by her, — for her pleading womanly eyes have 
brought conviction to my heart! Foolish, perhaps, — but, 
a bad woman, never!” — and, — these words occurred to 
me many times, in all their import, before the city on the 
Schuylkill engulfed me, a legal unit among the forensic 
band who ornament its classic halls. Hermione was now 
a trust of my honor — as well as her ardent swain. 

“Then, I will sally out! show myself! I will spy on 
the enemy!” he gayly cried, for his spirits had instantly 
risen. “And, after I am done with my orderly hour, I 
will return and tell you what you have to do!” 

It was noon! My table was covered with the litter of 
my correspondence and I had finished my day’s work, 
when Trepoff entered, and, throwing down his sword, 
saluted me with a tranquil brow. He watched me as I 
finished a letter to my sister Madeleine in Paris, prepar- 
ing her for a considerable delay in my projected return. 

“I have just received a telegram from Serge Zastrow!” 
said he. “It will be up to-night. To save you all political 
responsibility, I will speak to him, in confidence, — and 
you are supposed to know nothing of this, for the present, 


30 


FOR HER LIFE 


— as far as he goes! For he, too, is a Russian, — and has 
a head to lose!” 

“And, how went the orderly hour?” I asked, with a 
secret inquietude. 

“Oh! the Grand Duke was unusually gracious! Gra- 
hame ! It is not to-day or to-morrow I fear!” said Trepoff, 
becoming serious. “You do not know the Russian char- 
acter! Quiet — sly — patient — subtle — long suffering, — 
still they never forget. Now, Ivan Haxo may not dare 
to begin to undermine me, at once, with the Grand Duke! 
But, he will watch me like a sleuth-hound! The bolt will 
fall when I least suspect it. To be dismissed from the 
personal suite of the Grand Duke, would only be the 
military disgrace of a season! But, Haxo desires to trap 
me, — if I am recklessly foolish, — and then pay off all his 
old scores at once! He is a cold devil!” 

“Then you must be very careful in all your movements 
for the present!” I replied, “and I do not see how you 
can personally communicate with your bewitching trust 
of honor!” 

Trepoff laughed. “As usual, the dangerous part is the 
easiest! What I do fear, is the result of overconfidence, 
of that day by day self-beguiling, which wrecks all love 
intrigues finally, — ruins the courtier, — betrays state se- 
crets, and wears out all defensive armor! I shall have 
abundant tidings from the woman I have sworn to shel- 
ter! Marie Durand is able and cunning! She will find 
a thousand ways to bear Hermione’s messages and tid- 
ings to me! I can always reach her husband’s booth at 
the Winter Garden! I have this morning destroyed 
every single personal letter which I had in my rooms! I 
have left only my military correspondence! Old Elia, 
my henchman, is there, hidden where he can see if my 
rooms are searched in my absence! Oh! I am all ready 
now to meet the enemy!” he laughed. “My own castle 
is all right! It is my external movements I fear now. I 
shall be very conspicuous in my usual haunts 
for a week! To-night, there is a masked ball 
at the Winter Garden! I shall be a bright star there! 
Serge Zastrow will go with me, and he can watch over 
me! I will be prepared for any apparently accidental ren- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


31 


contre with the police. So, I may throw them off the 
track. I must hoodwink them ! I must play a new game 
— on my own account!” 

“You will meet her there, — the veiled lady?” I ques- 
tioned. He smiled. “Perhaps! Now, Walter, I am go- 
ing to test your patience! I have a skeleton scheme al- 
ready forming in my brain ! I shall keep away from you 
for a few days, — and let Serge Zastrow take you around 
the city with him a little! Should you be brought near 
Hermione again, I do not want our two faces to be 
familiarized as comrades in the eyes of Haxo’s watchers! 
The cardinal point is that you should not be identified 
with me at all in this matter; your own mistakes would 
be easily excused. But, I can not again risk myself in 
public with Hermione! It would be madness! You 
have nothing whatever to fear to be seen at any place, 
here, day or night! A stranger’s inexperience robs his 
movements of all suspicion in this easy-going town! — es- 
pecially where he can not speak the language, for any 
blunder is natural! All I wish you to do,” he said, se- 
riously, “is to hold yourself free to instantly help us, — 
after Serge and I have examined the whole field! He 
knows every inch of the Baltic, the Gulf of Bothnia, and 
the Gulf of Finland! He has that practical good sense 
of the sailor which is proverbial. I only wish that I had 
his cool nerve and sound head!” Trepoff ruefully con- 
cluded. 

“You make up in sentiment what you lack in sense, 
then,” I retorted. It was true. “Why not get him to try 
and smuggle her away, — by water?” I eagerly cried. I 
saw a fleeting vision of the lovely incumbrance, gazing 
back at the receding shores of Cronstadt! “It would be 
very desirable, — and, water leaves no trail!” 

He gloomily said: “Alas! It is impossible. Spies 
swarm on every craft, and any outgoing vessel could be 
easily stopped at Revel! Besides, the captain of the ship 
would be responsible. If any one, if any of the family 
risks a life,— a career for this unhappy wanderer, the 
woman whose face haunts me, I am bound in honor to 
be that man!” 

“You are right! — she looks to you alone! And, Fate 


32 


FOR HER LIFE. 


has joined your future! Why not try the interior?” I 
hazarded. 

“Nonsense! You do not know our country life! She 
would have to have a proper traveling passport! Some 
family would be always responsible for harboring her! 
The very first step of the cunning country police officials 
would be to pounce upon her, — and, — detain her! Once 
in their clutches, she would be sent back here, — and never 
released until her whole history was unraveled! No! 
That would be absolute ruin to us all!” 

“There are only two courses,” he continued ; “the one 
is for her to remain in hiding here, and trust to the pass- 
ing over of this incident at the Marble Palace ; the other, 
— a well-connected plan to assist her over the frontier 
into Europe by land. And, there you might succeed 
where we would fail!” 

“Is she safe at present?” I demanded of Trepoffi 

“Alas!” he said, quietly. “She is deeply in the toils! 
Her dangerous friends, — true to her, — are themselves 
all in daily danger! Many of them move around here,— 
and change lodgings every twenty-four hours. It is a 
desperate life! You may know that a fine woman nature, 
emotional and ardent, breaks down often under a long 
continued strain! The imprudence of any one of her 
dangerous friends might suddenly bring about a whole- 
sale descent of the police. No! There is but one way! 
It is for her to personate some character in which she 
can leave Russia ! The ordeal is a brief one ! Not more 
than two days! You, Serge, and I, are a circle of three — 
and — if I can keep up her courage, if she is only safe 
and ready — then, a rift in the clouds may quickly show 
us the way out. 

“Now, Grahame!” he cried, hopefully, “trust to me! 
Show yourself at Departments to-day, — go to the theater 
this evening! Watch all things carefully and observe 
narrowly if you are followed ! I will call here with a car- 
riage, and bring Serge, to-morrow, at eleven o’clock! 
We will all drive over to the Island, and breakfast! By 
that time, I shall have grave news for you. I will see her 
to-day if it kills me! I must! Two things I ask you! 
One is, to be as gay and trifling in your manner and 


FOR HER LIFE. 


33 


amusements as your legal decorum will allow! The 
other is, to avoid my house, — the Italiansky Bazaar, — 
and the Winter Garden, until I permit you. So you will 
be a hidden reserve force! Serge and I will concert 
some sensible measures. And, to-morrow morning I 
will have news for you! I trust to his sailor wit!” So 
Trepoff vanished, and I knew it was to gaze into the 
eyes which had enslaved him. 

The day’s occupations seemed strangely long to me, — 
and the charms of St. Petersburg society were fading 
very rapidly on my mind! The frank confessions of Tre- 
poff as to the uncertainty of social life, and the help- 
lessness of the individual under the stern police regime 
increased my mental uneasiness ! “Anything to get away, 
and, — as soon as possible,” I mentally resolved. “If two 
influential and patrician blood relatives, — sworn com- 
rades from boyhood, can not aid this rash and helpless 
woman, — what can I do, — but only blunder along, and, 
perhaps, suffer with them!” I felt keenly the hindrance 
of my ignorance of the language, — my helplessness to 
describe the wiles of any hidden enemies, — and, a dozen 
times, I was tempted to send my passport and have it 
viseed for my departure, “within three days,” via Wir- 
ballen ! Once over the Prussian frontier, at Eydtkuhnen, 
I would be safe! And, it was only twenty-six hours 
away! I was sorely tempted. 

My ardor of the previous evening ebbed slowly away, 
— and I organized a debating society, of which I was 
myself the moderator, and heard, — with very little satis- 
faction, — Walter Grahame, Esq., of the Philadelphia 
Bar, argue the case pro and con ! Logic and self-interest 
weighed for my instant departure! And, I acknowl- 
edged, as I laid my tired head down to frightful dreams, 
that a mere vain pride, — that pride which holds up the 
shivering duellist, the false pride which forces vain man 
onward into all dubious paths, had bound up my own 
honor, too, in an engagement fully as foolish as Trepoff’s. 

And yet, — he in risking his very life, — I in 'imperiling 
my cherished peace and liberty, we were both led on 
merely by the summons of two pleading, bright eyes, — 
the witchery of a fair woman’s beauty, armed in its help- 

3 


24 


FOR HER LIFE. 


less appeal to manly chivalry, — and that subtle feminine 
charm, which draws men, steeled to all other tempta- 
tions, far away from the beaten path of self-interest! And 
yet, I reflected that the mere egotist, would go on 
through the world only a mail-clad Diogenes, — a mere 
inert statue, gazing out unpityingly through the visor 
of a cold selfishness! I was not comforted in reflecting 
that “Beauty draws us by a single hair,” when I joined 
my two friends, and the sleigh dashed away over the 
new-fallen snow, in the arctic gray of the morning. I 
was clearly “in for it now.” Dimitri Trepoff pressed my 
hand very significantly, — and, the conversation was strict- 
ly confined to banalities! There were dark rings around 
Trepoff’s eyes, and his face was drawn and strained, with 
an intense restless emotion! Painful repression seemed 
to be the order of the day, in his warring thoughts ! Even 
that hearty young sailor, Captain Serge Zastrow, was 
strangely silent and reserved! His athletic figure, -r- 
bronzed cheek, — and glowing dark eyes marked the dar- 
ing child of sun and storm! It was easy to credit his 
rapid advance in the Navy due to the most desperate 
gallantry on the Danube in the destruction of the Turk- 
ish fleet! My busy days and his important command at 
Cronstadt had left us only on the threshold of a friend- 
ship. But, as his frank face was turned to me, the glance 
of his troubled eyes showed me that he well knew I 
shared Dimitri’s unwelcome dangers! We were “three 
of a kind!” 

While I watched the strange and varied sights of the 
great city, Captain Zastrow’s eyes were cast now and 
then behind us! “We are followed, Dimitri!” he whis- 
pered, in English. “I will soon see who it is!” growled 
Trepoff, as we turned into the Champs de Mars. “Drive 
around once!” ordered the Guardsman, as the troika 
swept along. “There! — that’s the same sleigh!” mut- 
tered Zastrow, pointing out a superb team of blacks. We 
had swept around a corner, and the equipage had dashed 
on toward* the Place Souvorov. 

As we passed down on the Troitsky bridge, the sus- 
pected equipage drew swiftly past us, and took the drive- 
way in advance! The expression on Trepoff’s face was 


FOR HER LIFE. 


35 


devilish, as a gigantic, black-bearded officer cast a stony 
glance at us, when they swept by! My own face was 
covered with a bashlik to ward off the Borean blast, — 
but Zastrow and Trepoff were in their uniform! “So!” 
he quietly said, as Zastrow’s eyes were fixed on him in 
triumph; “you were right! Ivan Luboff, again! He will 
be wearied, though, if he dogs me for the next month! 
I will lead him a devil’s dance!” But, Serge Zastrow 
shook his head gravely. “Dimitri,” he said, “Haxo has 
chosen his instrument well! You are in great danger! 
Now, Colonel Ivan Luboff, sub-chief of the Military Po- 
lice of St. Petersburg, is a man whose presence you can 
not resent, anywhere! For, salons — society — and all re- 
sorts are open to him, upon his mere rank and functions ! 
I doubt if any one in the capital would dare to refuse to 
him an invitation, — any one below the rank of the Grand 
Dukes, — I mean! Who was with him? I only saw a 
General’s insignia on the overcoat!” 

“I can not say!” gloomily replied Trepoff. “He is a 
dangerous fellow, — this Luboff, — and, — unfortunately, 
His Highness, the Grand Duke Constantine, is as fond 
of Luboff as my chief is of me ! So, it’s one Grand Duke 
against another, for influence. If he follows us to a res- 
taurant, — after last night, — the fact of a vigilant watcher 
on my every movement, is assured. You say that you 
saw the same sleigh, dog us all the morning?” 

“Ever since we left your house!” quietly answered the 
sailor. An ominous sign! 

In apparent unconcern, we drove up to the nearest res- 
taurant on the Island. “You had better play host, Wal- 
ter!” whispered Trepoff. “It will leave us free to watch 
these two men dogging my footsteps! Take a table in 
the open room, for there we can talk in a low voice, and 
no one can overhear us!” While I busied myself with 
the social duties now devolved on me, Captain Zastrow 
returned from the gallery, his shoulders twitching. 

“They have just driven up!” he said, in a low tone. 

“Well!” doggedly replied Trepoff, “it is now a duel to 
the death! And, my hands are tied by my well-known 
face and my public position. What shall we do?” he 
groaned. 


36 


FOR HER LIFE. 


Seated at the central table of a large open room, with 
no parties near us, we felt safe for the moment. “Let us 
laugh and joke and drink a couple of bottles of wine!” 
remarked Dimitri. “Though they have gone at once 
into a private room, we will be certainly watched here! 
Who is with him?” questioned Dimitri of his cousin. 

“I could not see the face! It’s a cavalry General! His 
pelisse collar was turned up over his face! I can’t see 
his interest in this!” growled Serge. 

“Tell me of last night, Trepoff,” I said, with a devour- 
ing anxiety. 

“Well, I will be brief,” remarked the Guardsman. “My 
room was neatly searched by four agents de police, who 
turned out the old Sergeant, and covered their tracks by 
officially going over the whole house! There was noth- 
ing compromising found in my rooms! These ministers 
of darkness simply came and went! It was a case of a 
regular domiciliary visit. But, Serge and I, — were fol- 
lowed, during every movement of the evening, — until 1 
reached home at half-past two! I was very careful to 
have a double domino! I also made myself very atten- 
tive to a gay little dancer who was provided for me by 
that smart soul Marie Durand! The real person I went to 
see, had been all afternoon hidden there, and, after my 
conference, in which I changed dominos twice'in the dress- 
ing rooms of Durand’s Restaurant, — I reappeared, in 
my usual black domino, and then took Serge and the 
little figurante into supper in the open room of Durand’s 
booth. Before I returned, I knew that Hermione was 
safe in her hidden retreat. I now know all of her story 
that ‘honor’ will allow her to tell me or me to listen to! 
That she has no compromising papers, no present con- 
nection with any blood enemies of the Czar! Her one 
fatal imprudence has led her into the hands of her dan- 
gerous friends, who are now loyally risking their very 
lives to shelter her! Fate has given a double secret to 
her and myself, — and, — she has the strictest faith to 
guard toward those, whom I dare not and would not 
meet! So, Walter, I must now, to save her, try and save 
myself, — and yet, I must stand back! I will need the help 
of both you and Serge! So we must confer frankly to- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


37 


gether. It is only as a watchful trinity we can succeed !” 

“It seems to me, Dimitri, that you will only expose 
yourself and her to a double doom, by meeting her again, 
clandestinely!” said Serge Zastrow. “I am known 
to be your bosom friend! I will be, also, watchful. And, 
my leave is short ! So, that on our friend Grahame, here, 
hangs the woman’s destiny, and perhaps your own life. 
He must be the go-between ! He must play a dangerous 
part, for a short time! If I could only stay! But, Tre- 
poff, you must not ruin all by your fond rashness !” 

In the intervals of our enforced merry-making, we ex- 
changed a few words of mutual cheer. The sailor’s frank 
brow was clouded. “You tell me she is too conspicuously 
patrician for an apparent seamstress or governess! I 
am trying to study out a quiet retreat for her ! The haunt 
she is in, may be discovered any day! In the very teeth 
of the police. I could hide her in the shops, if she were 
commonplace, but you say ” 

“Ah! no one could mistake her for a paid dependent!” 
was a singular coincident reply of Trepoff and my own. 

“Then there is but one desperate chance! one only!” 
resolutely said Zastrow. “Old General Komaroff, at 
Warsaw, is my god-father! The Countess and her daugh- 
ter Vera are coming up soon, on a visit of a month to 
my old uncle, General Zastrow! I can see Vera” — and 
then, a slight blush reddened on his tanned cheek. “Her 
father will deny her nothing! If she will write to him, he 
can get me a month’s leave, on a pretense of family af- 
fairs ! I must find the hunted woman a safe hiding place ! 
Perhaps even at Uncle Zastrow’s! The dear old boy is 
almost blind! His wife is the very simplest of mortals! 
You must strain every nerve to baffle Haxo — my dear 
old boy!” the sailor whispered to Trepoff. “When the 
Komaroff ladies go back to Warsaw, this strange beauty, 
could go on in their train, and, Grahame here, could then 
take her over the frontier! It is only six hours farther! 
Any one in the train of the Komaroffs is perfectly safe 
from all espionage. General Komaroff commands at 
Warsaw. They have never met Grahame! He will be 
received with open arms, on your account, and your 
brother’s! I will find the way! I could easily hide her 


38 


FOR HER LIFE. 


there in the Zastrow house; I know it from boyhood, but, 
then, the servants! They can not be long deceived! 
True it is, — they are the masters here, — and a single 
word to the police would bring down a quick ruin to all ! 
Ah! what a responsibility!” He glanced at the hollow- 
eyed lover. 

“Yes! Serge! They hang as a cloud of spies around 
every family table!” groaned Trepoff. His agitated face, 
— his mute suffering was such that I cried in a pleading 
whisper: 

“Let us leave here! You will surely betray yourself! 
And, — then leave her friendless! I will stand in with you 
— to the last! Cheer up!” 

“Bravo!” muttered Zastrow. “Then, Graliame, you 
and I will find the way out for her! One thing I do in- 
sist on,” he said; “Dimitri does not go near the Italian- 
sky Bazaar! For, it is true — that — Love is blind!” 

“Some one must go there to-night! She is breaking 
her heart in the fear of calling down the police on those 
who now shelter her, — and also of my taking some un- 
due risk! Zastrow can not go! My God! and I — I — 
must play the coward!” faltered Trepoff. 

I clasped his hands warmly. “Don’t worry, Dimitri!” 
I was emboldened to say. “I will go and keep your tryst! 
Do you quietly turn now and simply watch Luboff ! Keep 
him busied! Throw him off the track! Let the Durand 
find you some fresh-faced, romantic woman to aid in 
your semi-public hide and seek! If Captain Zastrow gets 
his leave, — and furnishes the retreat, I will find out a 
‘Yankee plan’ to effect her quiet departure! It is written 
in the stars! But here, I say, no one can be trusted but 
one of the ladies of the Komaroff family! And, — in some 
way, — as an apparent companion, — the lady whom you 
call Hermione, must go to Warsaw with them! After 
that, — I will boldly take her on over the frontier, — I 
would always have something to fall back on to save my- 
self! For, I am an American and a stranger!” 

“I see the clouds lifting!” whispered Zastrow. “Pay 
your bill now, Grahame, and let us go! We will all dine 
at Donon’s! A private room there is safe! I am known 
to all there! So is our own relationship, Dimitri! We 


FOR HER LIFE. 


39 


will talk our new plan over at your rooms, Grahame; 
and then, from Donon’s you can make your descent 
upon the Italiansky Bazaar! You can return there and 
report, and we will separate for the night! Dimitri can 
send word to this Durand woman, by you, to meet him 
when he will ! And, besides, his flirtation with some mys- 
terious pretty girl of the city here, will serve to confuse 
this lumbering scoundrel Luboff! There he is now!” 

And so, laughing and chatting, we passed out within 
a dozen yards of the man who was doing his best to 
bring the handsome Guardsman down to shame ! 

“Yes! it’s Haxo’s dirty work! You villain!” hissed 
Trepoff, as he gazed back at the burly Colonel. We 
reached my rooms after the Donon dinner and were safe, 
seemingly, from immediate pursuit. In the gay dining 
cafe we were unmolested — unwatched. We had faced 
our foes. 

“Let me write here to Vera Komaroff,” said the reso- 
lute sailor, as he possessed himself of my desk. When I 
returned from a ten minutes’ private conference with 
Dimitri Trepoff, whose eyes were moist, as he gave me 
all the outpourings of his heart, I saw Serge Zastrow, 
standing by my writing table, with an opened parchment 
in his hand. The air of triumph on his face was irresis- 
tible. His brightened manner was contagious. 

“This will do the business!” he cried. “How did this 
get here?” — he joyously danced around as he flourished 
the paper! 

“It’s my sister Madeleine’s expired passport!” I said, 
in wonder. “Every two years, an American passport has 
to be renewed! I went and obtained her a new one at 
the Embassy in Paris, when we thought of coming on, 
and so kept the old one!” 

Serge Zastrow’s eyes were blazing in excitement. “Has 
yours been returned to you?” he eagerly queried. I hand- 
ed it out, without a word. He examined its back, and the 
cabalistic marks on it. 

“Eureka!” he cried. “This can all be done here! And, 
this paper will be our common salvation!” He thrust it 
in his breast, and gayly said, “Now, for your plan of ac- 
tion for to-night!” 


40 


FOR HER LIFE. 


“I have my private orders from Dimitri, as to his mes- 
sages; also, a letter,” was my response. “Then, all you 
have to do, is to encourage your mysterious charge to 
hold out a week, in hiding, — and I will then offer her a 
safe home, — also a clear, open pathway, under invincible 
escort, to Warsaw, — and, — then, may God watch over 
you both, for a six hours’ run !” 

“That’s royal!” I cried. 

“Now, Dimitri, you need rest!” authoritatively re- 
marked Zastrow. “Go home alone! I’ll send Grahame 
in to take breakfast with you to-morrow! And, he will 
have his hands full with this night’s expedition ! Do you 
go, and get a good sleep! You need it!” 

I was sorry for Major Trepoff, as he dragged me into 
my bedroom. “To see you go on my quest, Walter!” 
he groaned. “To know her in deadly danger, every mo- 
ment! And, I, — to have my hands tied! Tell her, — tell 

her, ” and he broke down. His head was buried in 

his arms as he sat, bowed at my table. 

“Now! look here! Dimitri!” I said, severely; “you will 
have our devoted support! Go and sleep! Think al- 
ways that yours, as a part, — is the hardest to play ! And, 
you may need every friend you have! Watch the 
Grand Duke! Show yourself in the highest loyal so- 
ciety! There, too, are our great friends, the princely 
Mouravieffs ! — All these could help at a pinch, — help you, 
— but, Hermione’s secret must be buried in our three 
hearts! And, remember Zastrow’s sensible plan, — your 
will-o’-the-wisp chase, of the decoy inamorata! There is 
the Grand Theater, the Marie, the Theater Alexandra, 
the Michel, and that gay haunt, the Petit Theater — the 
Panaiev. — If you get a spirited, gay girl and one who 
likes her little ‘outing,’ you can mystify even the sneaking 
Luboff! Your chance chum will also have a friend or 
two! There are the wild ballet girls of the opera, — the 
fairy, dashing riders of the Cirque Ciniselli! Take two 
or three of them to Cubat’s, — Leinneris, — and down to 
that rattling haunt, Mildlrelt’s. — A dash in a sleigh with 
the ‘specially selected’ one, — along the Quai du Chateau, 
— the Ekaterinenhof, — a few flowers and bonbons, — a 
basket of wine, in fact,” I said, gayly. “A thousand rouble 


FOR HER LIFE. 


41 


note, well expended, may save your life! Live the life 
of the average guardsman up to date, for a week! But, 
hide the face of your inamorata, as much as you can! In 
fact, contrive a surreptitious visit or two to your rooms! 
Let them discover plumply covered skeletons in your 
closet!” 

Poor Trepoff laughed bitterly, as he sallied forth. “I 
did not know you were such a devil of a fellow, Gra- 
hame!” he cried, with a poor attempt at pleasantry. “It’s 
the first time a sedate Philadelphia lawyer ever set the 
pace for a Guardsman! You are a born devil — a regular 
ladies’ pet!” 

He grasped our hands, and the jingle of the bells soon 
told of his homeward voyage. 

“You had better wait a little!” said Zastrow, daintily 
compounding himself a moderated vodki, offering me his 
cigar-case. He threw himself in a chair. “You see that 
Trepoff is gone, — clean gone! Nothing left in his upper 
story! All settled in his heart! We Russians make 
fools of ourselves over women! From the cradle to the 
grave! Headlong and gallant, poor Dimitri has already 
idealized this prisoned beauty! God knows who she is, 
or where she came from! It’s all the same! Nothing 
stops our hot-headed fellows! Last year, — poor Scher- 
ovsky, — on his way to Japan, — with an outfit of ten thou- 
sand gold crowns, — met a dashing Bohemienne at Wilna! 
— He lost his head and then, turned night into day, there ! 
Feasted and reveled with the reckless singers! Showered 
presents on her and her mad confreres, and ten days after 
he left home, when he was supposed to be already on his 
steamer, at Brindesi, — he gave a last royal supper to the 
witching Magyar gypsy. At three o’clock in the morn- 
ing, — the frightened girl called in the maitre d’ hotel! 
There, among the emptied champagne bottles, and faded 
flowers, — lay poor Scherovsky, — his pistol still clenched 
in his hand, — a ball in his brain! He had bidden her 
sing ‘Little Devil!’ once more, — for him, — in a lover’s 
good-bye, — their lips touched the last glass together, — 
he tossed away the cup, kissed her in a mad frenzy of 
passion, and then, — shot himself, in her very arms! No! 
No! — It is devilish, — this witch beauty dance of these 


42 


FOR HER LIFE. 


bright-eyed devils ! — And, — in this case, — all that Trepoff 
lives for now, — is to save this woman; he has lost his 
head as well as heart, for he wants to,— nay, insists, — that 
he shall marry her!” 

“Why, he is mad!” I exclaimed. “She is an utter 
stranger!” 

“Ah!” gently said Zastrow, “Grahame! wait till the 
same frenzy touches your own weakened heart, and you 
will dance the tarantella like the rest of us! There’s one 
eternally true thing,” he said, slowly; “women rule our 
lives, every moment — for good or ill! It’s either a 
woman you have loved, — or one whom you wish to love, 
— or that you will love, who either doubles your joys, — 
or trebles your sorrows! Trepoff may have met one of 
those same madly, self-devoted superior women, who, in 
sheer vacancy of heart, throw themselves into these dan- 
gerous secret schemes! The lady conspirator,” he 
laughed, “usually soon finds, among friends or foes, in 
this strange whirligig of adventure, — it don’t matter on 
which side, — some one who ‘fills the void,’ and usually 
goes to the devil with her! Now, there was poor, simple 
Sophie Perovsky, — she met three or four such soul com- 
panions, — before the halter drew around her slender 
white neck ! She ruined a loyal family, — led at least two 
men, for love of her bright eyes, — down to an early grave 
of shame, — and herself, paid the same awful penalty!” 
Kindly Zastrow crossed himself and murmured a prayer. 
“I have often danced with her,” he said, reminiscently, 
“when she was of the golden circle! This swan of Trep- 
off’s may be one of the same flight!” 

“Good God! Zastrow!” I cried, “I can not bear to 
think of Trepoff’s ruin, — of his forfeit of rank, name, — 
perhaps life! She has sworn that she is clear of all dan- 
gerous or criminal intrigue! That she only came here 
to deliver some papers, which were on her person, when 
she became frightened at a supposedly hostile movement, 
in the halls of the Marble Palace! And, — the Durand 
woman took away her fearful trust, in safety — from 
Trepoff’s!” I paused, in a new quandary as to my own 
future safety. Was I now under the ban? 

“Bah!” said Zastrow. “A loving, passionate woman 


FOR HER LIFE. 


43 


will tell her lover almost anything! God help these 
white-bosomed daughters of passion ! They believe these 
very things themselves, for a time! I do not doubt that 
gratitude, the air of mystery, and a real sense of this gen- 
erous devotion has set this veiled beauty’s soul all aflame, 
for Dimitri. Now, if the fruition of these hopes, were 
only easy, — a hum-drum every-day affair, — in a month, — 
she would probably go one way, — and he another! In 
a year, they would have perhaps forgotten each other’s 
names and faces! Nothing chills like possession!” 

“Trepoff has met the passion of his life here!” I gravely 
said. “The dearly bought joys will linger, a sweetest 
harvest, — or else the dark flood of sorrows will sweep 
them both away, in a ruin of their young passion-thrilled 
lives!” 

“Yes,” sighed Zastrow; “you are right! It is too late 
to stop him! He is in the rapids, — and he must now 
guide his own canoe! He may shoot the waterfall! The 
chances are against him, — unless you and I can save him ! 
I never saw a man so wrapped up in a blind adoration! 
He is blind to all things now, — but this witching Her- 
mione! Who can she be?” he mused. 

“She is simply a dream of beauty!” I slowly said, as the 
hour of ten warned me to be off. 

“And, when do I meet you, Zastrow?” I said, with the 
air of an old conspirator. 

“I shall have to go to General Zastrow’s to-morrow! 
The Komaroffs may arrive at any time! I will know in 
three days, if Vera can get her father to obtain my leave! 
Of course, you must meet these people! Dear old Michael 
Zastrow! He has lived in retirement, since his son was 
killed on the Danube! Only the Komaroffs and the 
Mouravieffs, are intimate there now! I don’t mind warn- 
ing you about one thing, you and I will have to face these! 
It’s my own doing, too!” he gloomily mourned. “The 
very biggest devil I have met in this desperately fast 
town is just now an inmate of Zastrow’s house! Last 
year they came down to Cronstadt for the sea air! My 
ship was lying there, and I naturally dined every day at 
their villa! Now, little Olga,— the General’s bright-eyed 
tyrant grandchild, — was ship-crazy ! Of course, I adored 


44 


FOR HER LIFE. 


my cousin’s orphaned child. I was not, however, called 
on to adore Felise Dauvray, — the woman who is now the 
‘ame damnee’ of the Zastrow household! She came 
‘highly recommended V Of course, she has her own way, 
with the doting grandparents. And, when I played a 
very poor imitation of Paul and Virginia, — with this fas- 
cinating French devil, — I did not know that she was 
only a clockwork, supple-jointed love machine! Now, I 
have hidden from this gallic ‘ingenue’ — my growing ac- 
quaintance with the Komaroff s! Vera Komaroff is deli- 
cate, — proud, — spirited, — and haughty! On her brief 
visits, — she has always frozen this French witch, with a 
cold patrician politeness! If that she devil, — a human 
eel in silks and velvet, would read my secret, there is no 
revenge which she would stop at ! And, — I even fear for 
Vera, herself! I fact, as we are all brothers three, now, 
in Trepoff’s interest, — I will say frankly to you, Grahame, 
— it is because Vera Komaroff has promised to be my 
wife, I hope to save Dimitri, by getting his charmer out 
of Russia! That sudden flame may cool, — one or the 
other may forget. But, I have to pay my past folly’s tax, 
— by a defensive game of living chess, with the Dauvray ! 
So, you see, the past darkly shadows my future!” he 
groaned, as he paced the room. “Dear old Komaroff is 
a simple, grand seignieur! He would ignore my very ex- 
istence, and close his house to me for ever, if he knew I 
were once a slave to this ‘rosiere de voyage.’ She is a 
devil, — a smooth one, — a sly one! She was only down 
for four months at Cronstadt! When her letters of a not 
innocent passion, were discovered among the correspond- 
ence of some of the poor fellows of the ‘Conspiracy of 
the Forty,’ — I was cruelly undeceived! I broke off at 
once all relations! The fragrance of the rose has fled, 
but, the thorns are still sharp ! And, so, — I have frankly 
warned Vera that this woman hates me! She knows 
enough of the maneuvers of foreign governesses in high 
Russian families, — to ask me no more! In fact, — while 
Countess Komaroff is my sworn friend, I must get my 
next grade, — a fleet rank, — before I dare to take Vera 
away from her superb home ! Then, I shall go to the best 
foreign station, — the Mediterranean; — and, — take my 


FOR HER LIFE. 


45 


Vera away, — out of Felise Dauvray’s power! It is a sick- 
ening story! Most men have similar memories!” he dryly 
said. 

“I should think that you would not let the innocent 
child remain in such hands!” was my indignant com- 
ment. The world has its dangers for lambs from in- 
fancy! 

“Alas! That lot of people are all over very much the 
same. Olga is a mere child yet ! — I will watch this fair Fe- 
lise, — at any rate, — some one will soon run away with 
her, — she will fasten her claws into some rich youngster’s 
heart, for the days flit by, — and the flower must be culled 
in season! Felise will make a little circle of her own, per- 
haps, in the jeunesse doree! — I wonder,” concluded Zas- 
trow — “that the police did not question her down at 
Cronstadt ! But, the purport of her letters, was so clear- 
ly the soft song of Love, that the query would have been 
vain ! You may not know it, Grahame,” he dreamily said, 
“but, the desperate love intrigues of Russian higher life, 
— beggar the painted passions of the Decameron!” 

“I imagined the current of true love sweeps along a bit 
faster here, — than in staid Philadelphia, — especially from 
your own modest disclosures!” I remarked drily, as I 
sallied out into the night, and chewed the bitter end of 
reflection all along the Nevsky! I was among a nice, 
cool-headed lot of people! Love idiots! 

When I halted, and began my maneuvers of the Hawk- 
shaw character, I was too sadly conscious that I 
was neither a Vidocq, a Gryce, nor a Sherlock 
Holmes! I had not the subtlety of Jonathan Wild, 
the wit of Fouche, or the trained sagacity of a Pinkerton! 
I abandoned all effort to be supernaturally cunning, — 
and I mingled, — with a modest desire to mingle unob- 
served, in the casual crowd drifting down the Nevsky! 
I, however, retained enough timidity and presence of 
mind, to linger in several shops and make some trifling 
purchases in the great passage ! By a happy inspiration, 
— I cast glances at the half-veiled glass doors of the 
booth where the words “Articles de Paris,” seemed to be 
ominous of future troubles! “I wonder if Zastrow’s 
keen-eyed tyrant, the Dauvray, was an ‘Article de 


46 


FOR HER LIFE. 


Paris?’ ” I growled, as I sauntered into the shop. For, I 
had seen the trim form of Madame Marie Durand, mov- 
ing among the fans, powder puffs and gallipots! She 
seemed to have a roving commission. 1 approached the 
dark-robed shop-girl, and mustering all my choicest 
“Philadelphia French,” plunged into the mysteries of 
“cire de moustache” — Pinaud’s “Brilliantine,” and other 
articles suited to a dandy tourist! The twinkling eyes of 
Marie Durand rested on me with a single warning glance, 
as another would-be purchaser entered. “I will wait upon 
Monsieur!” she remarked, and I understood both the 
signals of her deft fingers, and her whispered word, 
“Wait!” When the stranger had finally departed, Mad- 
ame Durand raised her head from the show case. “This 
way; — I will show you what you wish!” and my heart 
beat as I found myself again in the little back room, be- 
hind the thickly-curtained doors. I had not time to speak 
before the light was extinguished, and, a slight noise 
grated on my ears. “Now! quick!” was the friendly 
whisper of the alert Durand, as her plump figure guided 
me on! I stepped forth gingerly after her, and the slid- 
ing noise was repeated. “All right now!” she said in a 
low voice, and the gleam of a taper, lit up a dark angle of 
the heavy stone walls of the Bazaar. With a nervous 
grasp, she moved aside a couple of superimposed pack- 
ing cases, and a hole in the flower yawned before me. 
“Go down!” she said. “I follow!” And, as I groped 
my way with bended head down an inclined passage, 
with its wide steps out in the earth, a sudden chill smote 
me. I heard the sound overhead of some one replacing 
the cases, and then, all was still. My heart beat wildly. 
I went cautiously on, stooping, and now following the 
silent woman, still candle in hand. The little passage 
was cased with fragments of heavy boxes tightly wedged 
together. Ten steps sufficed for the incline, and then 
ten more showed a heavily bulkheaded door. It was a 
secret haunt, under the building adjoining the Italiansky 
Bazaar. My companion paused a moment. There were 
confused sounds, and I was quickly dragged into a room 
whose narrowed dimensions admitted of no furnishings, 
save a platform table, a few boxes used as seats, and a 


B’OR HER LIFE. 


47 


couple of rude couches. An opening in the farther cor- 
ner indicated another hidden exit; a twisted oil wick in 
a cresset alone gave a feeble light. The air was close, 
and a woman was there cowering alone over a charcoal 
brazier in a corner. “I will leave you, now!” whispered 
Durand. “Be careful! Forget forever what you have 
seen to-night — even in your dreams; for your own life, 
as well as ours, depends upon it!” There was nothing 
to indicate human occupancy save the couches and the 
brazier. When the shop woman left us, she had wrapped 
herself in a working woman’s shawl, and she silently van- 
ished through the opening at the end of the room. And 
this had been the lover’s trysting place, in the shadow of 
doom! 

I cast my eyes in a vague wonder around, as the sitting 
woman sprang up, and I heard the sounds of fastenings 
being secured, behind the vanished -one’s path! Then, 
turning to me, the beautiful face of Hermione, the name- 
less fugitive, glowed in all of a loving woman’s devotion ; 
as, seizing my arms, with nervously clasped hands, she 
cried, “Tell me of him! Is he still safe?” I led her to a 
rude seat, and, in fearful whispers, I gave up my budget 
of mental dispatches. With her graceful form bowed, 
her noble face covered with her slender hands, the wo- 
man whom Fate had so strangely made the blessing or 
bane of Dimitri Trepoff’s existence, listened in silence 
to my relation. I spared nothing, and told her of all our 
hopes, our plans, and even all our fears. I gazed around 
at the mean shelter, not worthy to be the abode of a dog, 
and then deeply pondered upon what madness had led 
the sobbing woman into such a haunt of misery. I fear 
I was slightly didactic, as I said, “It must be some 
mighty impulse, some high aim, which leads a woman 
of your grade into such a blindly desperate quest, and 
puts your life in such daily peril! Your associates, your 
situation of the moment, your desperate future perils 
lurking darkly before you, may even follow you out of 
Russia! The arm of vengeance is a long one!” 

I was faced by a glowing vision of triumphant love ; for 
that strange woman Hermione, her hands clasped on her 
throbbing bosom, cried, “I thank God for the danger- 


48 


FOR HER LIFE. 


haunted path which led me to Dimitri Trepoff’s side! . I 
would die for him, to save his name, his golden future; 
and may God grant that I may not die with him!” The 
glow of an unearthly beauty mantled her face, as I 
watched her, for the tide of burning love in her glowing 
words, the flash of her splendid eyes, told me that the 
high-souled Trepoff had at last met his mate in the mad 
self-devotion of this woman’s love. 

“But, you cannot long exist here!” I cried, in com- 
miseration. She smiled faintly. “This is only a retreat! 
I sleep in the back room of the shop, or in one of the 
chambers of the houses, at the other end of the outlet, 
where we have some true and tried friends. Open seiz- 
ure, or official question, is what I fear! It was a fatal 
error — my visit here ! I might have known that this poor 
face would attract the eager glances of the blase mus- 
covite officers. My appearance and manners seem to in- 
dicate to them a personage of some rank,” she sadly 
smiled, through her tears. “And it was my being skill- 
fully accosted at the Marble Palace which caused me to 
flee away, and meet my fate in Dimitri Trepoff! That, 
and the glimpse I fear of the face of a man, whom I 
thought either dead or buried in the lonely Asian wastes 
far away! It is that man, alone, whom I would fear! 
No! this haunt is usually vacant. There are no arti- 
cles left here to betray the friends of Liberty to their 
foes, and I am now freed of my secret burden. They 
should never have bidden me to come- — some rougher 
nature, some ruder, braver soul !” 

“And so you are a friend of those who take their lives 
in their hands?” I asked. “Only of those who strive 
for liberty. I had with me, on my person, the keys to 
the ciphers which, in hundreds of new letters, are used 
now by friends abroad to aid the escape of those in Si- 
beria, or to bring tidings of the poor men and women 
still immured here! Only that, I swear to you on my 
honor! I am now free! I have once risked my life! 
My whole work is done! I shall ever be a friend in heart 
to those who struggle! Alas! It is a hopeless cause!” 
she sighed. “From this very room, men and women 
have gone forth to the scaffold, the rack, the gloomy hor- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


49 


rors of the prison cell, the awful dungeons of Siberia, — 
the exile of a life! Few run the gauntlet. I may!” 

“And now, you have a double faith to keep — to shield 
TrepofFs name and also to avoid bringing the police 
down on those who have sheltered you!” I gravely said. 
“It is indeed true,” she sighed. “I am entitled to such 
poor shelter as can be given me. I am not asked to 
longer share any secrets of the circles of Liberators 
here — my work has been well done. My trust is now 
only one of a loyal silence! And, all here would fain be 
rid of my useless presence. Alas! A noble friend of 
liberty, a powerful railway official, aided me over the 
frontier at Lemberg. His own voyage to Wilna on a 
special train, enabled me to easily reach there, in my 
proper guise. I was thought by all to be a lady of one 
of the legations. At Wilna, I left my wardrobe and be- 
longings — those fitted to my real rank in life. I was 
there disguised by our local friends, and came on here 
with the passport and papers of a dead member of the 
order. I was obliged to wait here to deliver the dozen 
tissue sheets which now are being memorized by a hun- 
dred of the order here. Careful copies of those price- 
less papers are now on their way to Siberia, to the Cau- 
casus, to far Tashkend, and duplicates are safely hidden 
here beyond all possibility of police danger. The one 
member of the Superior Circle here who was alone au- 
thorized to receive them, was to have met me that day 
in the Marble Palace; for an Imperial Special Courier, 
leaving that very afternoon, would then have taken one 
copy direct to the mouth of the Amur, under the very 
cover of the Czar’s royal Road Pass. It was one chance 
in a million! Had it not been for TrepofFs prompt bold- 
ness, for the shelter of his rooms, for the safe meeting 
with Durand there, the whole plan would have failed, 
and the key sheets of the new correspondence system 
might all have fallen into the hands of the authorities. 
It would have been failure, doom, disgrace — a useless 
sacrifice! Now, at least, I die victorious!” She was 
glowing in a triumph which thrilled even me. 

“Was it not a madness to try to meet there?” I haz- 
arded. “Ah !” Hermione said, “there is not a single royal 
4 


50 


FOR HER LIFE. 


palace — not one fort or ship which has not been chosen 
sometime as the safest place for such fearful trysts ! ^ On 
sheltering myself here with Durand, I was amazed,” she 
concluded, “to learn from the Executive Chief, who was 
responsible for my safety, that the friend who had passed 
me into Russia so easily had been suddenly promoted, 
and then ordered forthwith, to the Caucasus. He left, 
alas! no successor on the Lemberg road, and I am now 
trapped here! My whole personal baggage has been, 
however, conveyed from Wilna, and is here. But I am 
now wholly cut off! To get out seems impossible! 
Unless I have some help, my appearance will surely lead 
to my arrest! And,” she mournfully concluded, with the 
desperation of a hunted soul in her beautiful eyes, “I 
will — I must — leave here! By changing every twenty- 
four hours between the different knots of our friends, I 
may mingle safely with the ‘irregular’ people — those who 
have no legal papers here! There are hundreds — nay, 
even thousands of them! In the boats on the Neva, in 
the villages of the interior; even among the hundreds of 
basement rooms of the Imperial Palaces here! If my re- 
fined appearance, the air of society, did not make it ab- 
surd to play the humbler parts, I might be aided into the 
family of some foreign diplomat as an attendant, and so 
reach the frontier without suspicion! But,” she sadly 
smiled, “men have eyes as sharp on the Neva as on the 
Seine!” 

“You must trust to us — to Trepoff’s cousin and to my- 
self,” I urged. “For he dare not himself try to meet you 
now! We are trying to prepare a secure retreat for you; 
and I will at once communicate with you. Even Du- 
rand must not visit Trepoff’s -own quarters again! They 
are constantly watched! Can you devise a feasible plan 
for me to meet your friend, this faithful woman, in safety? 
For now, I alone, am the open channel for your needed 
conferences with Trepoff!” My honest voice touched 
her; for she pressed my hands warmly in silence. “Let 
me think,” she murmured. I gazed at this exquisite 
shapely beauty bending there before me, her rich dark 
locks sweeping over an ivory neck — a sad romance of 
dabbling in state crimes ! 


FOR HER LIFE. 


51 


A hideous vision ! The grim figure of the executioner 
blinded me. I started up in horror. “For God’s sake, 
hasten!” I cried, “I am stifling here! I cannot sleep 
unless I know you are out of this horror-haunted den!” 
I was rapidly gaining Trepoff’s exaltation. 

Hermione raised her noble eyes, in a flash of trustful 
tenderness to mine. “Be at dusk to-morrow at the 
Kazan Cathedral — before the great silver shrine. Marie 
Durand will be there. You can then stray safely away 
into any dark corner; and, kneeling there, confer with 
her, as you will. It will save you the risk of being seen 
at the shop too much.” 

“I will be there, if alive!” I cried. “But, surely it was 
useless for you to bring all your own personal belong- 
ings into Russia, to live in such grovelling retreats as 
this!” 

“Alas!” she sighed, “all nice plans fail, when tested by 
untoward accidents! Our good genius of the railway 
v/as to have left me at Lominetz, in the province of 
Minsk, on my return voyage towards Lemberg. One 
of the great ladies of that province, a secret friend of 
ours, had offered to harbor me in her own princely 
chateau, far from trouble. Her husband knows not of 
her reactionary sympathies. There, I could easily mingle 
unchallenged as a foreign guest, with her circle. On her 
annual flitting to the Riviera, I could have then gone out 
with her; for, our friend was to have been telegraphed, 
and passed me out with her party! Thus, I would be 
spared the danger of the long homeward trip alone, and 
he, for we too must shield him, who has risked his life a 
hundred times for us, — he would not have been forc'ed to 
be tete-a-tete with me. Spies denouncing him, would have 
surely doomed us both; for, up to the very last moment, 
I could be stopped, even within the sight of Lemberg! 
Now, our last outlet is closed! I cannot get to the 
shelter of her chateau! There I could pass the winter, 
even if she had to make the plan to rescue me, after 
going over the frontier herself. She knows me as Her- 
mione De Vries, a Belgian widow, of rank and wealth. 
I dare not now write to her, or telegraph. All the letters 
and dispatches here are examined; and no one can be 


52 


FOR HER LIFE. 


sent on from here whom she would trust! My railway 
guardian dared not even to try to communicate with 
me! I am lost, unless you can help me! But,” she sob- 
bed, “I will die alone, faithful to the past, true to Dimitri 
Trepoff!” With flashing eyes, she handed me a slender 
golden band drawn from her finger. “Tell him this! 
Give him this little ring! Say to him, ‘Loyal toujours! 
Amour eternelle! Fidele a la mort! Foi garde, hon- 
neur defend, a la fin!’ Go now!” she sobbed. 

“I will never desert you!” I cried, in a transport of 
emotion. “My good friend!” she faltered, “you are also 
too true to your relative Trepoff! Let me not feel that 
I am leading you into, perhaps, a serious or even a 
vexatious imprisonment! I know your bright land of 
freedom! I spent some happy months there once! I 
pray to the good God that you will reach it safely once 
more! Now, I will guide you out! And to your dying 
day keep a strict silence on what you have seen here! 
You hold a hundred lives in your keeping now! But I 
will not insult your loyalty ! Only in the future, remem- 
ber others in my place here!” 

“Trust to Zastrow and to me! We are concerting a 
shelter for you, near here, and, if our friends only come 
to our aid, I may, perhaps, take you over that dreaded 
frontier myself! I will have tidings for you to-morrow! 
Can you leave here at once?” She gazed at me with her 
beautiful wistful eyes shining in hope. 

“Whenever you have the shelter ready, if you dare to 
harbor me!” she murmured. “For, I would fain save 
thee, even at the risk of my life!” She led the way along 
a long narrow tunnel for forty paces and then paused at 
a bulkheaded door. Her fingers trembled with the heavy 
fastenings. She murmured, “Go on, now, boldly! I 
have signalled! Do not speak, and gain the street as 
soon as you can! There are some steps! Count twelve 
paces!” A last sigh, “Adieu! May God save us all!” 
sounded as I heard the door close behind me. Fear lent 
my steps speed. Steadying myself against the walls of 
the tunnel, I counted twelve, and then reached a flight of 
steps cut in the firm earth. With a nervous hand, I 
tapped softly at a closed door. It opened, and a voice 


FOR HER LIFE. 


53 


huskily said, “Hasten out! There is the door!” and the 
guardian stood hidden behind the door he had quickly 
opened, as I passed into a long hall. By a distant glim- 
mering light, I could see an archway to the street. I 
was standing alone in the cold night air before my eyes 
recovered from the one flash of a dark lantern, which 
had shown me the one door of exit. Stumbling along, 
excited and wearied, I saw before me the familiar bridge 
of the Anitchikoff. I turned into a vodki cellar, which 
was still open, and drank down two glasses of the fiery 
white liquid. With chattering teeth, I hailed the first 
droschky passing by, and then sped away to my rooms. 
As I drove up to the doorway, two lurking figures slunk 
away from the entrance! The lights were still burning 
in my rooms, where Zastrow awaited me. I was under 
surveillance. 

“Am I, too, under watch?” I groaned in dismay. I 
decided to change my location at once; for a horrible 
fear had taken possession of me. My fate was now 
linked with TrepofFs own, and with the matchless beauty 
who had called herself Hermione de Vries! I had in a 
half an hour finished my relation to Zastrow; I had an- 
swered all his thousand queries as to the loveliness which 
baffled my powers of eulogy, and then 1 finally told him 
of my determination to soon change my own quarters, 
for the spies were surely on my track ! 

“Good!” he cried. “I am going to domesticate you, 
my boy, at General Zastrow’s !” 


CHAPTER III. 

IN THE RAPIDS!— A WOMAN SCORNED. 

I slept little after my descent into the hidden cave, 
under the Italiansky; for, all I could extract from Serge 
Zastrow as to his plans was an injunction to wait in peace 
and trust all to him. “Yes, sir; I will install you there 
among these old respectables as a visitor, if I can get 
my long leave. Remain here on watch for three or four 


54 


FOR HER LIFE. 


days more! If Vera Komaroff’s charm works, then — I 
will soon have you under the safe cover of that dear old 
family fortress. I can come to you day or night there! 
Trepoff can always breakfast or dine with us as a family 
affair. The old General, ‘an old Russian’ of the very 
strictest school, speaks no English, and his sunset days 
are passed under the guidance of my dear old aunt. We 
will be taken upon trust, and absolutely our own mas- 
ters. We will have a citadel there, proof against all out- 
side spies, and I will give you the surprise of your life!” 

He was deaf to my entreaties for explanations, and he 
only cried, “Wait, wait! I must confer with Trepoff, and 
then, set myself right at the Ministry of Marine. Yes; it 
is the one haven for us all! We can do as we please 
there!” 

“And the sly French devil — your quondam summer 
queen of last year!” I anxiously said. “What may she 
not do in revenge?” 

“Ah!” he grimly replied, “the Countess Komaroff and 
sweet Vera will paralyze her by their presence; for I 
shall have them as guardian angels, until you, Counselor 
Walter Grahame, are safely over the frontier! I shall 
also escort you down to Warsaw myself!” I was si- 
lenced, and yet the very star of the drama was forgotten. 

“And Hermione, the shadowy queen of Trepoff’s wild 
dreams?” “You will see! You will see!” he said, smil- 
ing. “Simply wait and watch. I have a plan which will 
astonish even you!” And so he went away laughing. 

I dreamed all that night of the fierce Luboff dragging 
me forth before a file of troops and growling in my ear, 
“I have General Haxo’s order for your instant execu- 
tion !” for I had been seemingly apprehended, in the dim 
recesses of the cave below the bazaar, and strange, hos- 
tile faces leered at me in triumph, as pale Hermione was 
borne away a weeping captive, her agonized face still 
haunting me in its unearthly beauty. When I awoke 
with a start, the windows were crusted with blinding 
snow, and my servant was rattling the samovar utensils. 
“It is very late, Barin,” he said, apologetically; “and there 
are also many letters for you.” It was a half hour before 
I could shake off the cheating reality of my frightful 


FOR HER LIFE. 


55 


dreams and emerge into the dreamy cheat of the social 
day in Petersburg. My resolute friend Captain Serge 
Zastrow, looking very trim and warlike in his Captain’s 
uniform, dashed in upon my breakfast. The dark and 
gloomy day decided me to remain indoors and close up 
my preliminary correspondence. “With or without the 
company of fair Hermione, I must, for family and busi- 
ness reasons, soon leave Russia!” I realized, from the 
letter of my lonely sister Madeleine in Paris. I hastily 
penned an answer to her urgent appeal for my company. 
She had tenderly, but a little pettishly, written, “If you 
are longer delayed, I will come on at once to St. Peters- 
burg, and then we can go down direct together to Mon 
Plaisir; for I know that Justine will welcome us both, 
even in winter snows.” “This must not occur; I will 
stop it, at all hazards!” was my brotherly decision. 

“I think that I have enough on my mind, just at 
present!” was my verdict, as I closed a most emphatic 
missive, directing my sweet sister to remain under the 
wing of our American family friends, established in Paris. 

“On no account, Madeleine, must you think of coming 
here now! It is really very unhealthy, and I find it a 
task for even my own robust constitution to resist the 
rigors of the winter!” 

“That will keep her from indulging any rebellious 
ideas of coming here ! It would complicate things grave- 
ly. I then would not be free to help poor Trepofif!” I 
thought, with a sigh, as I posted those letters myself. 
I was glad to see a man open the box and remove the 
letters as I strolled back to my rooms. “Nothing will 
happen to those letters! They are in safe hands!” I 
chuckled, for I had heard many wonderful tales of the 
insecurity of the muscovite mails. I was destined to 
sadly verify them. 

“Now, I am going to astonish you, my dear Gra- 
hame!” cheerfully remarked Captain Zastrow. “I am 
going down to the Ministry of Marine. I have already a 
telegram from Vera Komaroff! She is a dear little 
trump! If I have my month’s leave promptly accorded, 
I am free to make my grand coup. I wish you to keep 
away, though, from Trepoff! Don’t even bow to him in 


56 


FOR HER LIFE. 


the street if you meet him in strange company. Ignore 
the gay wrongdoer! And, keep away from the Bazaar! 
Your duty is simple, masterly inactivity, just now! Of 
course, you can go and see the Durand woman to-night, 
as you have planned. But, let her always communicate 
with us in her own way. She is a hawk-eyed witch! 
Don’t you see, as speaking not a single word of Russian, 
you are practically helpless! All I wish to use of you at 
present is your very respectable appearance. And you 
must stay here at home to-day, at least till I return ! By 
the way,” he laughingly said, “if I were you, I would 
burn up all my private letters save your clear business 
papers; or if you wish to keep any family letters and 
such sacred things, deposit them sealed in your bank, or 
take them to your Embassy. But local papers — your 
gay record — I would destroy. Remember the Dauv- 
ray. You know the strangest things happen!” 

“I will be back at noon!” he cried, gayly, as he de- 
parted; “and if I have my leave granted, I will tell you 
all my pBns. I must save your character as a traveler 
intact, and also keep you in an honest ignorance. Di- 
mitri and I are agreed that we must take all the risks, 
and even we will have to avoid each other in public. He 
is going to ‘ruffle it now bravely’ and lead that scoundrel 
Luboff a merry dance! A gay little intermezzo!” 

“What can be this quick-witted sailor’s scheme?” I 
muttered, as I vainly tried a dozen occupations while 
awaiting his return. “Never mind!” was my final com- 
forting thought, “sailors and cats have charmed lives! 
This bright-hearted fellow knows every shade of the sly 
intrigues of the Neva, and, with Dimitri, a past master of 
all the lore of the Court, the clubs, and society, they will 
find out a hidden loophole for our safe retreat! At any 
rate, every day now cools the first suspicions.” I was 
but half-done arranging rny correspondence when Zas- 
trow dashed up in his sleigh. “Victory!” he shouted. 
“I have my leave! So I am free to act!” He was in 
the very gayest of spirits. “I will just run down to 
Cronstadt, this afternoon, and settle my private matters 
for a month’s stay! I shall go to the Zastrows to stay 
with you, as a guest, for the Komaroffs will arrive to- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


57 


morrow evening. Vera is a good fairy in this juncture. 
Now, my dear Counselor/’ he firmly said, “close up all 
your own affairs for a short absence! To-morrow at 
two I’ll send you down to Wilna, with one of my pet 
middies, to show you the sights of our ‘little Paris/ as 
we call it. It will give us time to work — and shield you ! 
It’s a jolly place, and if you can commit a few manly 
indiscretions there, why so much the better.” He fixed 
his sparkling eyes on me in merry fun. “What do you 
mean— riotous living, spendthrift folly, a small whirlwind 
of debauchery?” “Precisely!” he replied. “Just that! 
It will really do you good; and you will see some very 
devil-may-care little circles down there. In fact, I only 
want you out of the way for a few days! Your nerve 
will be steadied. Then we can use you later.” 

I began to understand. “And, while I am gone, you 
will secrete Hermione?” “Exactly so!” he nodded. 
“And neither you nor Trepoff is to have any hand in it!” 
he cried in triumph. “I shall appear for a time to be the 
lady’s sighing swain!” 

“But you don’t even know her yet!” I amazedly re- 
marked. This was really Russian. 

“Oh! I will easily fix all that! Durand and Trepoff 
will give me a very good character, I am sure; and I 
have a little token, you see — a password — already!” He 
held up Hermione’s ring. I sighed, and rather envied 
him his perilous embassy. So vain and jealous is the 
manly heart! Even lawyers can play the fool now and 
then. 

“Well, I suppose I must drift with the tide. I’ll be 
all ready to cast off my moorings! That’s nautical, isn’t 
it?” I queried. 

“All right — classic, my boy! You’re a very trump of 
Quakers!” he heartily said. “Now, you will not see me 
again until to-morrow at one o’clock. I’ll look out for 
your rooms here in your absence. Don’t forget to look 
over your letters!” He was away like a flash. ‘ I cer- 
tainly must leave no trail!” I mused, for I am not a Rus- 
sian with an adjustable heart and a convenient social 
code.” I feared that demure Philadelphia girl. 

I was busily engaged in finishing my sealing and 


58 


FOR HER LIFE. 


bundling up of my family correspondence, in the after- 
noon, when my servant, by our agreed-on dumb show, 
announced that my modified Russian bath awaited me. 
Ascending two floors, I was soon under his vigorous 
manipulations for an hour or more. A dreamy little nap 
of half an hour followed. The Nirvana, of Muscovy; 
alas, too brief! I had conveyed the intelligence finally 
to him by the exhibition of my watch dial and much 
useless gesticulation that I would be awakened at three 
o’clock. When I was finally aroused, the thought of my 
appointment with the indispensable French woman 
brought me full jump into the field of action. “And 
I’ve just time left now to drive down the Nevsky and 
leave these parcels of letters at the bank! It closes at 
four. And I must seal them with care!” I stepped into 
my working room, and the sight of the whole floor lit- 
tered with a cloud of my outspread papers vastly as- 
tonished me. The hurried work of a few moments 
caused me to sink back trembling in my chair. There 
was not a vestige of my sacred family letters to be found 
anywhere! The legal documents and my other private 
articles had been strewn rudely about. The papers of 
my absent Philadelphia clients and the Department cor- 
respondence were lying there thick as leaves in Vallom- 
brosa. Everything I would have charged the bank with, 
all my heart secrets, had disappeared! Even the letters 
of my shy Quaker fiancee. 

“Some one evidently who understands English!” I 
groaned, as I threw the hated law documents together 
in a heap. “Shall I accuse my man?” I mused. It was 
most astounding! Ringing the bell, he appeared. His 
evident honesty and his quaking fear was only too ap- 
parent when he comprehended my loss. Slipping out, 
he returned at once with the house dvornik, who spoke 
both French and Italian. The stolid air and obstinate 
silence of the burly porter told me that he was lying. 
He knew the cowardly secret. I was left alone, and not 
comforted by some scientific swearing of a sulphurous 
nature. I was ashamed to confess my loss. “I will 
not ever let Trepoff and Zastow know what a blamed 
fool I have been ! Now, who could have taken just those 


FOR HER LIFE. 


59 


very private letters!” A cursory examination of the 
other rooms told me that a skillful rummaging had also 
taken place there while I was up stairs. I was not com- 
forted, either, when my frightened servant crept in, and 
then, locking both the doors, with fearful motions, imi- 
tated the sly unlocking of my doors, and significantly 
saying “Vassili Ostrov,” made signs in that direction, 
and vaguely pointed to the fortress. The rough dumb 
show brought new terrors to my heart! 

“Ah!” I groaned, “it is then a secret police house visit! 
Who could have posted them!” I remembered that 
Trepoff had laughingly pointed out to me the head- 
quarters of the Third section, at the head of that dread- 
ed street. “Who was the traitor?” 

“It’s the dvornik!” I cried, in despair. “He must 
have seen my servant conduct me up stairs! And he 
either summoned these spies, or gave them the tip! 
Thank God! My private letters are absolutely uncom- 
promising, — they are only journals of the heart, — and 
absolutely useless to them!” In which sage conclusion 
I rested, happy now in my approaching run to Wilna. 
“I am glad to leave!” I roared. “I will clear out of here 
— out of Russia, too!” was my indignant resolve. And 
I, then and there, registered a solemn vow to cleave unto 
Philadelphia, like the bark on a tree, in the dim future, 
if I ever reached my dear and natal shores! “I fear I 
was not cut out for monarchical institutions!” I objur- 
gated; and in a last wild defiance to the Czar, his police, 
the secret agents, and all the cowardly lurkers on my 
path, I grimly resolved henceforth to lock nothing in 
Russia. “Should they want my linen, a few much- 
needed toilet articles, or a selection of my humble ward- 
robe, they can just pitch in and help themselves, without 
breaking my fastenings or destroying the house furni- 
ture ! I will instantly burn up all the family letters I re- 
ceive after this!” And I then wondered, in my rage, if 
the postal authorities opened and read my outward let- 
ters — “A nice lot!” 

“Much good may it do them!” I stormed, strong in 
my innocence. And it was some time before I dis- 
covered that this “new rule” to me did “work both 


60 


FOR HER LIFE. 


ways.” If it did them any good, it certainly did not 
strew my path with roses! I was not in a very devout 
mood as I knelt in the evening shadows before the mag- 
nificent silver balustrade of the Kazan Cathedral. I had 
lingered under its exterior colonnade to reconnoitre for 
the faithful French woman, but though its hundred col- 
umns sheltered crowds of strangers, lovers, beggars, 
tourists, and tired-out wayfarers, I did not yet see the 
woman whom I waited for. Gazing in awe at the won- 
drous richness of the great high altar, I awaited some 
signal of her presence. “Perhaps I may even be dragged 
away from here, out of the house of God, by the Vassili 
Ostrov spies!” I furtively mused. When a light hand 
touched my arm I saw the figure of a heavily veiled wo- 
man, robed in deepest black, kneeling at my side! My 
eyes followed her as she rose and walked heavily away. 
It was indeed the Durand! Rising at length, and slow- 
ly threading the great crowd, kneeling there around the 
venerated image of Our Lady, the adoration of the mys- 
tified Cossacks three hundred years ago, I found at last 
a remote corner, far away under the moldering trophy 
flags, where I could safely approach the friendly mes- 
senger. I was soon on my knees at her side, 'as she prayed 
in dumb show. “For God's sake! be wary!” she softly 
said. “A special activity is just now observed in the 
whole police! Our friends are openly dogged every- 
where on the streets! Loris Melikoff and Ignatief were 
severe enough, but, Tolstoi is even worse! Do not ven- 
ture to come near us!” The woman trembled like a leaf 
as she continued the dumb show of her prayers. She 
had pointed toward the Italiansky Bazaar. 

“And, Hermione, that poor woman!” I gasped, as I 
awkwardly bowed and made some visible signs of de- 
votion. I was cornered up like a rat! The skies seemed 
to grow darker every day. 

“The naval officer has seen her and conferred two 
hours to-day! She must make an effort at once to 
change her hiding place! A descent of the police on the 
tunnel and her capture would only give a hundred new 
victims ! This week we will vanish ; the little booth will 
be occupied by others, and the bazaar entrance to the 


FOR HER LIFE. 


61 


tunnel tightly closed! We shall not risk the under- 
ground retreat! I shall shelter myself with a dress- 
maker here who always works for the court ladies. There 
I am free — and safe, too! The little business will be 
moved over to the Gastiny Dvor. We have faithful 
friends there. Such things provoke no comment — the 
shopkeepers are always on the move. But, we can no 
longer shelter our poor friend there in the cave! The 
other entrance is heavily mined. If the police try to 
force the bulkheaded door, — should they discover the 
farther entrance — ” She hesitated. 

“What then?” I whispered. She drew a long breath 
and trembled, as she replied, “Some of the police and all 
in the cave would meet a horrible death! There is a 
self-acting charge of dynamite there! If they try to bat- 
ter down the bulkhead, they will surely explode it! All 
of our watchers at the other end are gone; the goods 
are being even now, removed, and a new face is there. 
The only remaining entrance opens behind an old cafe!” 

I was horror-struck! “And I must leave her prisoned 
there — leave her to her fate?” I groaned in agony. My 
reputation for fervent devotion was established, for sev- 
eral worshipers noticed my fervor. But, alas, I was only 
praying for that beautiful hunted woman ! 

“Do not give way!” the brave woman murmured. 
“Zastrow has her retreat already prepared, and if there 
is no descent by to-morrow evening, she will be safe! 
He will take her away to-morrow ! So, you can go away, 
in present peace and future hope.” 

“And if it should happen? You say the town swarms 
with active spies!” “Then, forget us all,” she sadly whis- 
pered, in a thrilling undertone. “Those not killed in the 
explosion will need no vain human aid! The dark fort- 
ress over there will be our prison, — our judgment place, 
our tomb! And it will be a hasty shrift!” 

“My God! it will kill Trepoff if any harm should come 
to her! He loves her! He loves her! He is rapidly 
growing mad for that love!” I sadly muttered. 

“Ah!” the French woman sighed. “ Tout passe; tout 
lasse; tout casse!’ This is only a world of blood and 
tears, here under these cold arctic skies! And it is the 


62 


FOR HER LIFE. 


common lot! Time chills the loving pulses beating once 
as one! Whitest arms unwind from round one sighing 
lover, to clasp another yet, in even a wilder frenzy ! 
Death with unerring grasp tears the crown from kingly 
heads, and the rags from the starving beggar’s back! 
Old age steals away our graces, our strength, our very 
heart throbs, and then leaves us alone, sceptered only 
with the useless sorrows of the past! I have long since 
grown desperate! I have loved, — and lost! I care not 
when the summons comes — only, let the hangman do his 
work well! For here below, only misery and tyranny is 
strong! The gray crown of unhappiness is the gift of 
the coming years!” She rocked herself to and fro. 
“The snowy locks of a bitter old age!” 

“But, you have a husband?” I hazarded. “Ah! We 
of the doomed have no such real ties! He is only a hus- 
band in name, — a waiting brother, like myself, under the 
ban! We juggle with those paltry relations for a grim 
purpose, — you of the world, — only for pride and vanity! 
No! I am alone, — alone with my life-long sorrow! We 
merely divide the name Durand, as one dual human so- 
cial animal! I am alone; and do not forget loneliness 
is man’s state of nature! For, we are born and we die 
alone! There’s not a love we meet which does not 
loosen its clasping arms and leave us sadder for its van- 
ished joys!” 

“And, love!” I whispered, for I thought of Trepoff’s 
mad devotion. “What is love?” “Love is the iris on 
the waterfall’s rainbow! As you approach it, it van- 
ishes! As you grasp it, it lies dead in your clutch, like 
the painted butterfly! It has color and motion, and yet 
neither life nor purpose! Love is only an echoless song, 
which spends itself in vanishing sweetness and dies away 
forever!” She was weeping, this strange desperate wo- 
man! Some olden memory had smitten the rock of her 
iron heart. 

“Then, nothing avails in this world,” I said, fascinated 
by her gloomy pessimism. “‘Wealth, pleasure, power!’ 
These things are simply the trappings and baggage of 
fools, doomed in each quickened breath of gratified van- 
ity, to an earlier death !” “I believe in nothing, — in noth- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


63 


mg!” she said, “but freedom! The wi4d liberty of the 
viewless winds! The self-guided freedom of the tornado! 
The human mind, a quickened spirit, whirling along, al- 
beit in darkness, is chainless forever! No sage, no dream- 
er* — not even Alexander on his golden throne here, — can 
answer to me whence we come, or whither we darkly 
wander. We poor mortals are but the comets of the 
dense blackness, the night of ignorance; and our bed of 
darkness, our natal beginnings, our final end, sums up 
the value of the whole equation of life. Nothing! And 
yet, in this darkness, the voice of Freedom sings in the 
dawning light!” 

“Then, you are a — ” I whispered; but she cut me off 
with a sigh and a sob. “Just a heart-broken woman!” 
she faltered, as she bent her head. “Go!” she mur- 
mured. “All is well! Obey the brave Captain Zastrow! 
I shall see you again ! And, I will watch over Hermione 
with my life! Poor blossom in the storm! For she 
lives — to love!” “Where shall I see you?” I eagerly 
whispered. “Trust for that to sorrow, to my fidelity, 
and to fate! 

“We shall meet again! And Zastrow, before that, will 
tell you all! Watch yourself in every move!” And then 
and there, on the cold stones of the gloomy Cathedral, I 
sighed. “Tell her that I, too, will stand by her cause, 
to the last!” — and, rising, I left the desperate woman 
conspirator alone there on her knees before the shrine 
of God! I slowly regained my home, and the silent 
rooms seemed to be now haunted with an atmosphere 
of dread and gloomy distrust. My servant, too, eyed me 
with a growing fear, and a new nervous desperation 
seized upon me. My loneliness galled me. “Let these 
things all lie as they are!” I recklessly signalled, though 
in a mechanical affection for my law-papers, I rear- 
ranged my scattered archives. “I will go out and make 
a night of it, — alone!” I determined; for the figure of the 
despairing woman conspirator in the church still haunted 
me. “I will find a gayer side of life!” I swore, if only 
for a brief hour. 

“I will follow her advice! I will simply look out for 
myself!” and then, I dressed myself for a cafe dinner, 


64 


FOR HER LIFE. 


where, at least, I would hear around me the clatter of 
merry voices, the popping of corks, and the shrill laugh- 
ter of wine-loving women! 

I sighed as I thought of this strange nature of Marie 
Durand, offering to me her acute and well-judged coun- 
sels, and then, calmly risking her own individual neck 
under the hangman’s noose for the general amelioration 
of mankind! “A strange medley of the ideal and the 
practical!” I was forced to admit And then I won- 
dered, too, what had been the past, — the forgotten past, 
— of this woman without a future. And, fearful of all 
women reformers, and strong intellects, I questioned the 
unanswering fates as to whether a lost love, — a soul be- 
trayed, a womanly fountain of passions choked up for- 
ever, — had not driven her out, a mere wreck upon life’s 
ocean! A bark driving rudderless on in the black 
storm, with all sails set! Driving on to ruin, — to the 
rocks of woe! 

But, I resolutely experimented at Dominique’s gay re- 
sort, in face of the Cathedral, where I had learned the 
sad wisdom of Marie Durand, to see if wine, — fiery, 
sparkling wine, — would bring my flagging spirits up to 
the level of the proposed gaiety at Wilna. A crowd of 
merry young officers, some tourists of the higher class, 
a few diplomats, and many country nobles, filled the 
splendid rooms. On the stairs, the passing rustle of silk 
told of the pretty wanderers seeking “les cabinets par- 
ticulars,” under the very gayest escort! And before I 
paid my reckoning, and prepared to swagger out boldly, 
in a Bombastes courage, I saw in one quick glimpse 
my hunted friend Dimitri Trepoff, with his most grand 
seigneur air, hand out a remarkably gracefully formed 
young woman from a sleigh and guide her over the 
snowy sidewalk in his own peculiarly chevaleresque 
manner. The fleecy Russian cloud, fine as the muslins 
of India, only showed to me a pair of sparkling dark 
eyes; but, the springy, dainty stride told the story of the 
ballet! His whole actions betrayed the devilishly reck- 
less indiscretions suggested by Zastrow. “Ah!” I 
groaned, “Dimitri is really superb in his ‘great divertisse- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


65 


ment’ act!” He was surely playing his role fully up to all 
the requirements of the situation. 

Before I sought my own couch, I double-locked all 
the doors, and also placed some heavy furniture against 
the entrance. “They may take a fancy to carry me off 
in the night!” I wrathfully reflected. I sighed for Trep- 
off’s offered revolver. And from a sea of uneasy dreams, 
I was at last awakened in the morning by the pounding 
of my man, who ushered in Major Trepoff long before 
the alleged daylight was faintly illumining the frozen 
streets. I gazed at him blankly as I sipped my morn- 
ing coffee. My mind was still in a confused whirl; and 
my “legal head” was aching, too. His appearance was 
reckless, and even desperate. The internal excitement 
of his hidden passion, the marks of his social vigil, the 
meaning quiver of his agitated voice, spoke to me of a 
strain which would not be borne for long. 

“I saw you last night,” he said, as he gazed on my 
preparations for the voyage. “I only ran in to tell you, 
Walter! Do not dare to write or telegraph a single word 
to any one while away! Your smart young escort will 
let us know daily of your well-being. Now, to-day is 
the turning point in our future plans! If Zastrow can 
only guide her away safely to the refuge he designs, 
then, on your return we will at once make every prepara- 
tion for the Warsaw journey, and for your own final dash 
over the border! I dare not linger too long here with 
you! I may be watched at present!” He rose, and paced 
the room in a fretful excitement. “Remember, you have 
absolutely nothing to do ! The youngster who takes you 
to Wilna will show you all the lines, and I beg you to 
refrain from all personal conversation, no matter how 
tempting! Play your part, and so wait for us to effect 
your pleasant and safe arrangements for the outward 
voyage. This trip is only — a throw off! And, to give 
us a little elbow room here!” His face was very grave, 
even if his voice was cheery. 

“Have you seen her, Dimitri, since?” I said, as I noted 
his anxiety. “No!” he faltered; “but to-night I shall 
surely meet her, unless Zastrow fails me! She must, 
however, be apparently under his devoted care, until she 

5 


66 


FOR HER LIFE. 


is safely lodged in her new character!’’ It was easy to 
see the strong man was all unhinged in his self-control. 
A mad tyrant, — Love ruled his burning heart! 

“And, how will I know if she is safe?” I insisted. “My 
heart and soul will be with you ! I fear we have all been 
dogged, — followed, — and they may pounce upon the 
whole circle! Will I have news? We may even be called 
up and questioned — if anything happens !” I was decid- 
edly apprehensive. 

“You and I, perhaps, may be,” Trepoff gloomily an- 
swered; but, Zastrow is so far safe! He is clear till now! 
Serge is just entering upon his own time of trial! But 
I feel that he will surely succeed, — that he will not be 
dogged and spied! He is a lucky devil, and cool, too! 
His high character; his chivalric devotion to Vera Ko- 
maroff, — these things are all greatly in his favor! For 
it is tacitly admitted that none may come between him 
and the graceful little patrician whom the happiest fates 
destine for his bride! In fact, every one seems to tacitly 
know it, save her gallant old father, who looks so far 
over his pretty daughter’s head!” 

When Dimitri Trepoff grasped my hand in adieu, his 
breast heaved in a mute agony, as I sent words of cheer 
to the beautiful fugitive, still prisoned in that mined cave ! 
“I will not be alive a single hour, if the plans fail and she 
is discovered!” was the distracted lover’s last farewell. 

It was a well-judged mercy in Serge Zastrow that he 
simply drove up/with fifteen minutes to waste in greetings. 
“Leave all as it is! Your man here is honest! I will be 
responsible! Now come! Young Saratoff waits at the 
station! His family are all down now at Wilna! You’ll 
have a jolly time!” I loved the bold sailor for his affec- 
tation of jollity, as he waved his hat when the train drew 
out, and my thoughts were left far behind, near the caged 
falcon in the underground den. I had become tired and 
heart-wearied with my cares, and all the heart-burning 
anxieties which I left behind! Every verst of the six 
hundred through the gloomy forests and straggling snow 
filled lakes to Wilna, I pondered silently over the des- 
perate risks taken by the friends I left behind. “Ah! 
They would like to spare me!” I thought, as I closed my 


FOR HER LIFE. 


67 


eyes. “It is to save me that I have been hospitably ex- 
iled for these days !” and, in a fever, I slept. In a newer 
fever, I awoke, as the train rolled into Wilna, and my 
gay young companion Saratoff vainly cheered me as 
we stepped out into the cool, fresh morning breeze! I 
had hardly noticed the laughing boy officer, but I felt he 
was a man in heart, as he whispered — “I drive first to the 
telegraph office!” It was the only intimation which I 
had received of his sharing my dark anxieties. The 
splendid sleigh of the Saratoff family awaited us at the 
station, with the majordomo of the household, proud 
of his dashing young master. I affected a calmness which 
I did not feel when the young officer sprang out at the 
main Bureau de Telegraph. “I’m hanged if I can make 
this thing out,” he lightly said, as he gave me a little, 
slender tape of paper. I read off the words spelled out 
there in broken French, by the recording instrument: 
“The Belgian cruiser Hermione arrived safely in port.” 
I was forced to lie directly, for I saw the boy was hood- 
winked. But, my heart silently leaped up, in one wild 
throb of thankfulness to God! “The first step!” I mur- 
mured, and then, handing the message back, remarked, 
“It is some mix-up! I do not know what it means!” In 
ten minutes, I was gayly mingling in the joyous excite- 
ment of young Saratoff s welcome home. It seemed this 
day to be the entrance to Paradise. The unstinted hospi- 
tality of his laughing young sisters, — the genial family 
circle, — and all the round of home joys, — the friendly 
faces, taught me in three days, — that the very warmest 
blood in the world circulates around the Russian home 
fireside. And, — in the hundred thousand dwellers of 
Wilna, divided between proud conquered Poles, and 
busy, bustling Israelites, — with all the hordes of Russian 
troops, and great swarms of uniformed officials, I was 
dazzled with the kaleidoscopic life. Palaces, colleges, 
museums, — proud old strongholds, and splendid temples 
of every sect, gave a polyglot romance to the old city of 
the Jagellons. Here, — mosque, — Greek cathedral, syna- 
gogue, Catholic and Protestant churches, all open to 
worshipers, side by side, showed the diverse texture of 
the great Russian Empire, now flooding the plains of 


68 


FOR HER LIFE. 


Asia, — and destined yet, — to victoriously overflow into 
Europe! Five railroads centering here, poured in daily 
their crowds of voyagers of all races. In threading gal- 
leries of pictured treasures, gazing at the glories of the 
old princely Polish homes, and, following in thought 
the great Napoleon’s flight, a beaten conqueror, a fugi- 
tive invader, — I lived again in the storied past. For there 
was the old archiepiscopal palace — whence the man of 
Austerlitz, — in the meanest disguise, — fled on December 
6th, 1812, — and left twenty thousand of his matchless 
veterans to die helpless in the frozen streets ! I11 the wild 
hurly-burly of amusement, — in all the changing scenes 
of theater, — cafe, — gypsy singers, — and bazaars, I had 
but one thought, — “Hundreds come and go here daily 
in safety, — I am but a single grain of sand in this human 
waste. I can surely slip forth unnoticed, — for there can 
be no system to check all these diverse peoples, mingled 
in a wild whirl!” Mv heart was vastly lighter, as the brief 
dream of peaceful security ended. For, in the changing 
scenes of a glimpse of the charming interior life of a 
model Russian family, — in all the old romance of the 
Lithuanian realm, where the cross of Christ was set up 
on a hill, then still lit with the sacred fires of the Pagan; — 
in scenes where the Poles reigned in splendor before the 
Russian power was agglomerated ; — where Christianity 
was victorious, where Kiev and Moscow were yet wild, 
heathen towns, — I forgot my silent adherence to the 
veiled struggle “for her life!” I had not dared even to 
think of the desperate steps by which Trepoff and Zas- 
trow had brought the beautiful cruiser “Hermione” safe- 
ly into port! And, I must return — and fulfill my vows! 

Wandering through the splendid gardens of the Viliia, 
— by its storied, lover-haunted bowers, — gazing on the 
proud tombs of the chivalric Polish nobility, — lingering 
near olden shrines of blessed sanctity, — and waking the 
echoes of pictured halls, I forgot that I was still in the web' 
of Russian intrigue, — until the middy pointed out the 
very window whence grim Mouravieff watched the Polish 
patriots die by scores on the scaffold! I woke to a 
new sense of present cares, and future dangers, as Sara- 
toff meaningly said, at dinner: “We must take the night 


FOR HER LIFE. 


69 


train ! I am recalled to my ship ! I had a telegram from 
Captain Zastrow this afternoon!” 

In the intervals of the brief merry-making, I had de- 
cided to keep my own counsel. “The truth shall not even 
be wrenched from me! It shall not slip from my un- 
guarded tongue !” and I was watchful and amused myself 
only with the young sailor’s chatter of himself, his chums, 
his ship, — and all that golden future which spreads out 
before us mortals — at twenty! 

It was ten o’clock the next morning, when we stepped 
out of our returning train on the platform at the Moscow 
station. As the great gilded dome of St. Isaac’s Church 
hovered over me again, I grimly reflected that four great 
bridges and three ferries conveniently led to the Citadelle 
of St. Pierre et St. Paul! The wide Neva was covered 
with flitting police boats, and swift steam launches ! And, 
strange tales had often reached me, of wayfarers dragged 
from sleigh or droschky, — torn from their carriages, — 
seized quickly on the dark streets, — or at the dim dead 
of night, hurried, bundled up, — from their rooms to the 
river bank, where these grim barks of Charon bore 
them off on the darkening waters, to a never-lifted mys- 
tery of the unknown. The uplifted sword hanging over 
all! 

There was no one at the station to receive us. My 
eyes met Saratoff’s in wonder. He did not seem sur- 
prised. He murmured, “The carriage waits for us!” I 
was so cut by my friends’ apparent neglect that I asked no 
further questions, — but gloomily followed Midshipman 
Saratoff. I felt my own utter helplessness, in the babel 
of strange tongues — Russian, — Jewish patois, — Finnish, 
— Polish, — and from frantic knots of weird-looking 
strangers, Persian, Armenian, Greek, — and all the 
strange dialects of Asia, arise in an unequaled medley. 
And yet, — no police, — no watchers, — nothing official 
was visible, in the way of restraint. The brooding fear 
of the men of the Vassili-Ostrov, — the Third Section 
spectres, who came and went at will, — still oppressed 
me, for all this quiet entourage. I resented the fact that 
Saratoff evidently knew of plans, in which I was reduced 
to be a mere pawn! But, — pride tied my tongue, and, I 


70 


FOR HER LIFE. 


mutely followed him out on the grand esplanade. I was 
so secretly outraged at heart that I did not even lift my 
eyes, when our closed double carriage rolled away in a 
direction strange to me, which only excited my renewed 
suspicions. For, — the route lay up the Neva. 

I struggled with my pride for a half hour, — until I 
recognized the Okhta Ferry, and the Place Adlerberg! 
I had joined once in a very merry supper party at a 
dingy little hotel there, presided over by an ex-chef of the 
French Ambassadorial cuisine. And, I was still mute 
and obstinate, as Saratoff said earnestly, “I leave you 
here. For, there is a naval launch waiting for me at the 
ferry!” The porters were already busied with my sacs de 
voyage. 

“And, am I to be dropped here like a sack of sawdust?” 
I indignantly remarked. I was wrathful with my treat- 
ment. 

“You’ll find warm friends waiting for you! It’s a 
strange country!” smiled the gay middy. "I have to obey 
orders, but you must come down and see me, on the 
ironclad at Cronstadt! I will give you at least a few hap- 
py hours, — and, — you can take your revenge when you 
get hold of me some day at Philadelphia!” The laughing 
boy pressed my hands, and, — calling a droschky, — rattled 
away to the ferry, as I followed a head waiter, waiting, 
napkin on arm, — who met me in the dark doorway. 

“The dejeuner is waiting, sir!” he said, with great def- 
erence. “This way, sir!” — and, — in a moment, — I was 
clasped in the arms of the overjoyed Zastrow, who 
laughed at my wondering gaze around. His welcome 
disarmed me! 

“It was for our safety! Sit down, and let us chat while 
you are eating! I know you are famished! We are per- 
fectly safe here!” 

I drew a long breath of relief! “Safe! But, — for how 
long! Not a mouthful!” I cried, “until you have told me 
all ! How is ” 

“Hold!” he earnestly said; “no names! All our friends 
are safe and well! You will see them all very soon! To- 
night, — in fact!” 

“And why, then, have you brought me here?” I was 


FOR HER LIFE. 


71 


still a little nettled at the cavalier way in which I had been 
flanked around. I — a grave and reverend lawyer! 

Serge Zastrow forced a huge draught of Burgundy on 
me. 

“You are a true American! You will ask questions!” 
He drew up a chair near, and then whispered: 

“We dared not openly communicate! We sent a man 
down to Wilna to tell Saratoff where to bring you to-day. 
He knows absolutely nothing! He must not! There 
are three of us, now, in this dangerous affair! And, — 
that is heads enough to risk, — even for two loving 
hearts!” 

“Why! I thought that all was going on well!” I fal- 
tered. 

Zastrow’s face grew very sober. “On the evening of 
your departure, — I safely hid away the woman whom we 
must now guard to the very last! I do not think that we 
were observed, for it was long after midnight, — when I 
met her on the Anitchkof Bridge, whither she had re- 
paired, with a heavy decoy bundle in her arms! To pre- 
vent any possible spying, — the faithful Frenchwoman 
went directly to a dressmaker’s bench, and was busied, 
needle in hand, all afternoon in her new shop, where the 
court custom is itself a protection! I also publicly sta- 
tioned Trepoff in a wild supper party at Donon’s, — after 
the opera, — and, he has notoriously devoted himself to 
the strangely attractive little soubrette he picked up! 
Even Colonel Luboff has tried to find out who she is! 
So, — you see, Trepoff has made her the vogue!” 

He laughed uneasily. 

“Who is she?” I demanded. 

“Oh! A stray little French actress who ran away from 
the Moscow company, — and came here, — with a diplo- 
mat! And, — she knows nothing, — save that her own 
bright eyes are very fetching! I have one safe place in 
town to meet Dimitri! My uniform is its own passport 
always in the ante-rooms of the Grand Duke Michael! 
So, the path is open there!” He paused and forced me to 
begin my breakfast. 

“Then, why these precautions?” I innocently asked. 

He sighed. “Because, I wished you to meet the Coun- 


72 


FOR HER LIFE. 


tess Komaroff, — and, Vera, at dinner to-night, — for the 
first time, — at the Zastrows, — where, naturally, Dimitri, 
— as a relative, — would be under the sacred seal of a fam- 
ily home! And, — further, — the very gravest danger is 
over, — because I have removed all your luggage to your 
rooms at General Zastrow’s house, — from which place, 
alone, — you must leave publicly, — with the Komaroffs 
to go to Warsaw!” 

“And why?” I queried, with a vague, growing alarm. 

“Because,” he replied, “the shop in the Italiansky was 
all vacated the next morning after you left ! It was easy 
to move the light goods, only across the street to the 
Gastiny Dvor! An application had been on file there 
for two weeks! The opening to the tunnel was closed 
and disguised. The shop-girl is already out of Russia, 
for, she had regular papers. So, that shop’s history is 
over. I do not know if the giving up of the booth at- 
tracted attention, or if you had been followed from there, 
— from your rooms! Treachery is not possible among 
our own little circle, — but, last night, a very neat descent 
of the police was suddenly made ! They tried the wrong 
end of the tunnel! They promptly battered in the bulk- 
head, — and a terrible explosion, and the death of several 
agents dc surete followed ! The whole course of the tun- 
nel has now been traced by uprooting all the galleries 
in rear of the little shops of the Italiansky.” 

“And, how do you know this?” I asked, in some 
amazement. 

“There were those left on watch in the bazaar, who are 
leagued with these people of ours. They have their own 
secret friends everywhere, — even in the polygon!” Zas- 
trow said. “The whole community, too, is honeycombed 
with the spy and counter-spy system ! I had sent the man 
to Wilna to meet you here, for your rooms have also 
been secretly searched, again! I tied fine silk threads 
over all your doors, and systematically arranged the fur- 
niture myself! I found the articles shifted, and the tell- 
tale threads all broken!” 

Zastrow waited the changing of the courses to resume. 

“I sent all your own personal baggage, then, at once, 
down to the Swedish landing! Your man, for precau- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


73 


tion, is safe on my ship now, — and there he will stay till 
you are out of Russia. So, he must be muzzled. On that 
ship, I am a king!” Zastrow proudly cried. “All your 
effects and my own, then, went together to my old kins- 
man’s, and, you will find your new home there a most 
pleasant one, till I send you away under a very charming 
escort!” 

He eyed me curiously. “The past is in this way clearly 
cut off! I will have you under my own eyes! And, — I 
would be very happy but for one thing!” 

The sailor swallowed a cup of black coffee and lit a 
cigar. 

“It is the legacy of the crowning folly of my life! The 
bitter dregs of the honey of last year!” 

“And, what is this annoyance, now?” I had a dim pre- 
sentiment of the cause of the Handsome young sailor’s 
woes. 

“Of course, the very key of our whole present plans 
is my presence, as a fixture, at General Zastrow’s! I never 
knew that a woman could cleave to a man as the spright- 
ly Felise Dauvray does to me now!” he grimly said. “I 
tried a little scene! It was of no avail! I then appealed 
to her sense of duty, — to her regard for the presence of 
the young Countess Komaroff ! All in vain. She raged 
like a devil!” Zastrow was puzzled! “I can not avoid her 
at table! She threatens me with every dire disaster! Of 
course, — the etiquette is ceremonial. Old General Zas- 
trow is very stern and taciturn ! His son’s death in battle 
took all the brightness out of his life forever! My dear 
old aunt speaks only Russian ! She has almost forgotten 
the few French exercises of her youthful days at the In- 
stitute. It would be a very gloomy house in all its splen- 
dor, — if it were not for the bright little grandchild ! And, 
I have always her between myself, and any undue tete-a- 
tetes with Felise! She is my present salvation!” 

“You might buy the silence of this woman,” I hazarded. 

“You do not know the Dauvray!” Zastrow answered, 
slowly. “Wait till you see her! I must manage to pla- 
cate her in some effective way! I dare not offer her an 
open bribe! She is a singular nature, — for she swore — 
by all the gods and goddesses — in our last interview,— 


74 


FOR HER LIFE. 


that she would not let me go! I have invented a thou- 
sand lame excuses to break our confidential relation. 
Alas! Each one lamer than the other. And, — the re- 
pression of the presence of the Komaroff ladies only 
makes Felise fiercer in her strange fancy for me! It’s 
like being caged up with an affectionate young tigress!” 

I was not joyful. “Beware then of her! This woman 
will surely try to ruin you! Unless she merely uses you, 
— as a stepping stone to reach the better circles here, 
then — your time will surely come! No man can with- 
stand the jealous frenzy of a scorned woman! The un- 
expected will strike you in the tenderest quarter! If you 
are absolute in your idea of ending the romance, then, — 
beware! For, of course, you can not dally with her!” 

“You are right!” he sighed. “And yet, I have no choice. 
She would not dare to lift her eyes to Vera Komaroff in 
any open insolence, but, I fear all covert things, — poison, 
some hellish deed, some mean revenge! A blow to me, — 
I must take in silence! I deserve it! — but — Vera — by 
God! — I will have this woman’s life — if she attacks her!” 

“Can you not have her sent away?” I eagerly asked, 
seeing his trouble. 

“Alas! I can not meanly take advantage of my own 
wrong! To do her justice, — her conduct is openly irre- 
proachable, — and, she never lifts her eyes. It would be 
lache for me to speak! Her only diversions are evening 
walks, now and then, on the English quai. But, I do 
not burden my mind with her now. The secret of her 
Cronstadt love-letters, too, was only whispered to me, 
by one of the court martials. This affair of the tunnel 
has convulsed the local society which, — in bated whis- 
pers, — speaks now of the shadow side of our life here! 
If either you, — Dimitri, or I, — were to be traced into its 
still hidden history, — a summary death would sweep us 
all into the common hangman’s potter’s field! Our pres- 
ent quiet is, perhaps, only the calm before the storm! 
The trial of our nerves is to come! For, only the great 
rank and social powers of the Komaroffs will effect the 
safe departure of you, — and, that wonderful woman! — 
and — she is a wonder — and — a beauty!” he sighed. 

“I do not see, though, why your rooms have been so 


FOR HER LIFE. 


75 


lately searched!” the Captain mused. “You were away — 
true! You are sure there is nothing dangerous in your 
current letters? No free American comments? No 
Nihilist gossip? No slighting mention of high names?” 

“Not a syllable, — I only wrote to my sister Madeleine 
at Paris.” 

The Captain started. “Did you happen to tell her not 
to write to you any more here?” he eagerly questioned. 
“Yes! I described all my proposed movements, and told 
her to remain in Paris until I telegraphed to her from the 
German frontier, — and then, to await me in Paris, or 
meet me at Vienna, if she could find traveling friends.” 

“Ah! I see!” he gravely said. “Perhaps it was only 
some idle curiosity of the police as to your long stay; 
but, if your private correspondence were in their hands, 
they might try to trap you in the future! You took care 
of all your letters?” 

I bowed, and gulped the white lie, in a sudden fear! 
I had taken care of them ; it was a plump, straight whop- 
per! They had very neatly taken care of them! 

“I am so thankful! Then we are safe! For, even if 
they would open one or two of your letters, now, they 
could only build up theories; with the others, — there 
might be danger!” 

He stopped and took out his watch. “I shall now leave 
you here till five o’clock! You will find all of the latest 
Paris journals here to amuse you. Don’t, however, go 
out of the hotel! The waiter here is trusty! I will come 
back and take you to your new quarters! The Zastrows 
always dine at seven, — and, for a week, your part will 
be only a passive one! Now, — ring for anything you 
want! Give the man all your orders! I am the host here! 
I must go away, and warn Dimitri at once of your safe 
arrival; he has been anxious, — and, — you will meet him 
to-night! For, — I shall sleep at his house, — and, he can 
use my room at the Zastrows ! So, you can have a quiet 
conference! You’ll find him pretty well used up!” 

“And, — Hermione!” I whispered. 

“You will also meet her soon!” he gravely murmured, 
“Grahame!” the sailor solemnly said, watching the ef- 
fect of every word, “three lives depend now on your ab- 


76 


FOR HER LIFE. 


solute obedience to my orders! Trepoff is tied up hand 
and foot! He must not be further suspected! I have al- 
ready risked my life, — and also Vera Komaroff’s future 
happiness, at the call of blood and old friendship! Your 
sister Justine must never know of this, — not even a single 
word! Swear it, to me! These things kill, here — even 
after long years!” 

“I swear it, Serge!” I said, trembling at heart to think 
of my fatal letters in the hands of the sly police. 

“And, — you must quietly take up the passive position 
which I assign to you, — for your life, — and mine, depend 
now on shielding Trepoff, and the hunted woman whose 
loveliness and noble soul really merit our devotion, to 
the uttermost! Dimitri has told me enough to make her 
sacred in my eyes! We have all gone too far — now, — • 
to turn back !” The sailor fixed his manly glances full on 
my anxious face. He was stirred to his bosom’s core. 

“It is true,” I murmured. “And yet, Zastrow,” I said, 
“it seems so very easy to leave Russia!” I told him of 
the untrammeled movements of the busy throngs at Wil- 
na! 

“No one even asked me for a passport while at the Sar- 
atoffs!” I added. 

“Ah, my friend! Never forget that you were under a 
roof where a responsible householder was bound to pro- 
duce a proper passport on call for you, — and to register 
you duly at the police headquarters, within twenty-four 
hours; also, to answer all, if asked, as to your move- 
ments, — and, besides, the travelers whom you saw, — they 
were all moving on interior lines, — and, all had podrovj- 
nas, or ‘road permits/ When you pass by Wilna, or the 
nearest large Russian town on any line, approaching to 
the frontier, — you then are the target of a hundred spies ! 
Up to the very last half-hour, you can be stopped by tele- 
graph, — and, — then — nothing but straight papers, and 
a correct demeanor will carry you out unchallenged! 
When you go to General Zastrow’s as his guest, he is, 
then, responsible for you, — after he has admitted you to 
his table, as a family guest! Do not forget that he risks 
his own future tranquillity on your behavior!” Zastrow 
was very earnest. 


FOR HER LIFE. 


77 


“I feel that I have no right to intrude on this quiet 
household!” I said, with some little Philadelphia dig- 
nity. I was not willing to be a Jonah! 

Zastrow’s brow grew very stern. “Do not forget that 
I have already taken the responsibility of this — to save 
Trepoff’s imperiled life and future, — to rescue this wom- 
an who now reigns in his loving soul, — for he is surely 
love-mad, — and that you must meet the position assigned 
you, — without flinching. For your own sake, too! It is 
the only way out!” he said, in a tone which absolutely 
frightened me. “Now I must go! I will be here at five 
o’clock! We must work as one! It is the only resource 
left. I ask you to school yourself to meet any new sur- 
prises! Any strange positions which we may be led into! 
As neither General Zastrow nor his aged wife speak one 
word of English, — you can guard a polite silence at will! 
You will find that Madame Komaroff and Vera will not 
question you, in any awkward manner! I have given my 
dearest Vera a bit of a half-confidence! And, — you will 
also daily observe that people in St. Petersburg do not 
need to be cautioned as to habitual prudence! The 
empty gaps in our high society left after the cruel terror- 
ism of two years ago, have been bitter warnings to all 
the rashly inclined. So, you can let Trepoff and I lead 
you out! I would simply contain myself in the character 
of visitor for the week before you go to Warsaw. Amuse 
yourself with daily trifles. And, — remember, — as you 
are a man, — once over the frontier, — a single future word 
might doom poor Trepoff, or even myself, to the grave! 
You must swear silence and secrecy! Think always of 
your trust. It is the price of your own safety now ! Think 
of your own married sister’s position here! You must be 
dumb for ever as to this adventure !” 

He then left me, — and, a sense of some overhanging 
disaster pressed heavily upon my wearied mind! Tired 
and unduly excited, — I threw myself down on a couch, — 
and slept until the cheery voice of Zastrow aroused me. 
It was already dark. 

“All is ready! Come, now, — my friend,” he said. “Re- 
member all my directions, now! Your promise! You are 
absolutely unknown to the General and his wife! They 
never have even met your sister Justine! The Komaroff s 


78 


FOR HER LIFE. 


are fortunately strangers also to her! And, — hence, you 
have only to drop into your new character, — as a formal 
guest! Trepoff and I will handle all the rest!” 

We entered the sleigh and dashed away on the snow- 
path always kept in the middle of the Petersburg streets 
in winter for “speeding.” I was quite breathless when we 
drew up at the entrance of a fine old mansion on the Ad- 
miralty Quai. As the dvornik threw wide the doors, I 
shuddered on entering the house which rose up dark and 
prison-like on the great silent avenue. But, all was light, 
warmth and cheerful luxury within. Serge gayly cried 
out: 

“I will conduct you to your rooms. I have one of my 
own men from the ship already here to wait on you! He 
speaks French very well. Send me word when you are 
dressed, and I’ll come in, — and bring in Dimitri to you, — 
when you are ready to go down. Then, we will make the 
grand entree ! The bell rings always half an hour before 
dinner, and we usually then assemble in the drawing- 
rooms! I will then present you to the friendly Komar- 
off s! You will only meet the old General and his wife 
when the butler announces dinner! They are very quiet 
people! You will find your things, I hope, all in order!” 
Zastrow smiled peculiarly. “Now, remember! Don’t be 
surprised at anything!” he said, as he turned and walked 
away down the great hall, for we had ascended a noble 
staircase, to my rooms. 

“Stay!” I whispered. “Hermione — where is she?” 

“Oh! That surprise, too, will come later! Trepoff will 
have to tell you about that himself. You may, perhaps, 
meet her to-night! Now! again, remember! we have 
buried all the past !” 

I carefully arrayed myself for a formal dinner, while 
admiring the quaint splendors of the grand old apart- 
ment now allotted to me. Over the mantle in the prin- 
cipal room hung the portrait of a splendid-looking offi- 
cer. Evidently the dead hero! 

“The rooms of the young master, whom we lost on the 
Danube,” said the quick-witted sailor valet. I found my 
fingers trembling, and my heart beating, as I tied my 
cravat, just as the silver bell rang its warning. The prgrn- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


79 


ised surprise! What could surprise me now? I was be- 
coming Russianized! 

“Pray tell Captain Zastrow I should be happy to see 
him,” I said, as I remembered Serge’s last injunction. I 
was standing there lost in admiration of a fine old Per- 
sian tapestry, as a gentle tap at the door aroused me. I 
carelessly cried, “Come in!” — as my thoughts had wan- 
dered away to the placid Schuylkill. I had just addressed 
myself eloquently as follows: “If I ever get safely out of 
this very peculiar land, — I think that I will take my sister 
and cross the Atlantic to beat the record ! I am tired of 
mystery! — and of cold shivers, too! If Justine wishes to 
enjoy our Yankeefied company, — she and her good hus- 
band can come over to us!” I slowly turned my head, 
as I heard the unfamiliar rustling of silk in my own den ! 
But, I sprung up in a sudden alarm as a stately officer, 
towering in full dress uniform, — led up to me a vision of 
the most entrancing beauty! I gazed, in palsied aston- 
ishment, — for, Serge Zastrow in all the bravery of his 
gala costume, — had closed the door — and, — quietly 
locked it! 

Dimitri Trepoff — Major of the Paul Regiment — -faced 
me there with the lovely stranger, the woman whose silk- 
en lashes had drooped over her streaming eyes when I 
saw her last, in the damp underground cave of death — 
the secret band’s last haunt, the home of a nameless new 
cult ! Oh ! God ! How lovely she was ! And, — yet, robed 
in all the splendor of her station, — her eyes met mine 
in one last pleading glance for pity — for forgiveness! I 
began to have a dim suspicion of a snare! 

“What does this visit mean?” I gasped. “Are you 
mad or only silly?” 

“When you take Countess Komaroff into dinner to- 
night do not forget,” said Serge Zastrow, — taking her 
trembling hand and placing it in mine, — that this lady 
is your sister, Madeleine Grahame!” 

Ah ! God ! This was the surprise ! 

“You are mad to rush into this desperate ruse!” I cried. 
“It is our very ruin!” 

“Grahame!” said Zastrow, in a low, stern voice, “your 
real sister’s old passport gives this lady now a name! I 


80 


FOR HER LIFE. 


have had all the visas forged upon it! The Komaroffs 
can pass her out of Russia! On your single nerve, now, 
depends our three lives, — and your escaping a trip to 
Siberia !” 

“My God!” I groaned. 


CHAPTER IV. 

THE WAY OUT!— FOUL PLAY. 

There was a gloomy silence in the room, where four 
schemers now shared a secret which might be the death- 
warrant of the party ! I saw now the bold manoeuvres by 
which Serge Zastrow had placed me in an irrevocably 
false position. It was not to be remedied. In sharing 
the common dangers, I saw at last the fatal consequences 
to me of concealing the loss of my letters; and, now I 
was unable to protest. I dared not! There was my oar — 
and the galley must be driven ahead! 

“This masquerade can not be maintained,” I said, as 
Hermione de Vries glided to my side. My anger made 
me quiver in range. I was stupefied with the audacity 
of Zastrow’s bold stroke. To tie me down, like a dog! 

“Why not, Walter?” warmly whispered Trepoff. “It 
seemed to us to be our only course. It can not be un- 
done! Not a soul in this house knows either you, — or 
your real sister! You are otherwise powerless, helpless, 
passive. This gives you an easy role. None of the five 
adults here will care to converse with you. For, you go 
away — so soon! And, your new sister Madeleine can play 
her own innocept part with the Komaroffs. She is mis- 
tress of all the languages. Your very avocation of lawyer 
will excuse you in habitually keeping to your rooms. 
Letters and current business are a fair excuse! Now, 
Serge and I will execute all your outside commissions! 
Your department business, you have told us, is in order! 

“You can drive around openly to all these places in the 
Zastrow equipages! My own man will conduct you! 
Only, you must guard a golden silence! You can be 


FOR HER LIFE. 


81 


taken along under the invulnerable escort of the Komar- 
off ladies, as far as Warsaw! Then, — it is only a trial of 
nerve for a few hours 1 Now, what better could we have 
done?” 

I was silenced, and yet — not convinced. For, I was 
haunted by my secret of the stolen letters. 

“If I should be asked, or examined about my absent 
sister?” I murmured. 

“Bah!” resolutely said Zastrow. “One of us will be 
with you all the while! No one will care to question 
you! Don’t you see that General Zastrow alone is really 
responsible for this lady’s character. That is our risk— 
not yours. The old passport is in his hands ! The dvor- 
nik made the usual report required by law, — two days 
ago ! Our three lives hang now on your prudent submis- 
sion. It is useless to rebel. Too late!” 

He was inflexible in his will. I bowed my head in a sul- 
len silence. But, — a strange foreboding chilled my 
heart. Those letters; and, — I dared not tell them of my 
loss! So, we had already deceived each other! 

“I see it!” a sweet, low voice said, — thrilling on the 
still ominous silence. It was the beautiful unknown who 
spoke, — standing there before me, robed in all her re- 
splendent beauty! “You would not have your absent 
sister’s name so profaned! A doomed woman, perhaps 
even now. I swear to you, though, that through me, — 
the honored name shall not come to shame! Death may 
as well claim me now! I only consented to act as your 
sister in a dumb-show. I was asked to do no more. Cap- 
tain Zastrow then brought me to this house. I thought 
at first, only as a hiding place! I have risked my own 
life, — with his, — to save — Dimitri Trepoff!” she faltered, 
— as she tottered, — and then, her lover’s arms received 
her. 

It was a dismal tableaul The clang of a silver gong 
called us all to the salon. I dared not speak! For the 
agony of the generous woman had riven my heart. She 
murmured: “Let me go to my room! I will face the 

future alone! I can steal away to Marie Durand! Some 
friendly cellar may give me a shelter! And, — there is 


82 


POE HER LIFE. 


yet hope! I will have no deceit, — no heart-break, no 
quarrels here!” 

“Never!” I cried. “Let us now go down! It is now, — 
all for one — and, — one for all! But, you should have 
warned us both fully of this, Zastrow!” I said, reproach- 
fully. “Then, neither of you would have been manage- 
able; you would not have risked the other! We must 
only act now! We have talked enough. Remember — 
Grahame! silence! You will take in Madame la Com- 
tesse Komaroff! Let Hermione and us handle all the 
table talking! Watch but one person, — Felise Dauvray! 
If you wish to be safe, — then, only chatter with little 
Olga! She speaks a childish English! Leave all the 
rest of the play to us !” 

I was still bewildered as we descended the stairs, but 
the hall rang to Zastrow’s merry sallies and Trepoff’s 
ringing replies. I was spared any effort at dissembling — 
for both cavaliers gallantly attended Miss Madeleine 
Grahame! A flood of light, — the reflections of strange 
faces in the dazzling mirrors, — the gleam of crystal chan- 
deliers — and the sheen of ormolu — the magnificence of 
the vast portrait-hung drawing-rooms; — all were acces- 
sories to the group in which my plain habit de soir paled 
before all the magnificence of the grenadier and the sailor! 
A double hand grasp from the old silver-haired General 
Michael Zastrow, as Serge presented me ; a warm greet- 
ing from the aged hostess; a motherly old Russian, — 
enabled me to turn my embarrassed eyes upon the grace- 
ful Countess Komaroff, — gentle, faded and refined, — I re- 
ceived a hearty greeting, — in liquid French, — from Vera 
Komaroff, whose eighteen years and morning graces of 
life made her seem one of the Greuze or Watteau’s love 
nymphs ! 

“You must be so happy to meet your sister once 
more,” she neatly said, as she fell easily into a sotto voce 
conversation with the beautiful Madeleine. I promptly 
possessed myself of the pretty chatterbox Olga Zastrow, 
— who had already yielded up her infantine heart to the 
fair unknown. My voyage, — the embarrassment of a 
polyglot circle, — the announcement of the dinner, all 
busied me, until I offered my arm, with my very neatest 


FOR HER LIFE. 


83 


legal bow, to Madame Komaroff ! I felt in my heart the 
wisdom of Zastrow’s policy, as I seated myself at the 
splendid table. Serge was the escort of my new-found 
sister, and I dared not yet gaze upon them, but fixed 
my eyes upon the splendid picture made by Trepoff, — 
who seemed not to have a single care in the world, — as 
he murmured sweet nothings to the adorable little Coun- 
tess Vera! She was evidently a spoiled little patrician! I 
recalled myself, — at Zastrow’s gravely polite presenta- 
tion, for “Mademoiselle Dauvray” flashed a pair of keen, 
inquiring eyes upon me, as she led her charge to the table. 
I observed the distinct recognition of the grade of lady, 
— in the formal politeness, though distinct in its cere- 
monial coolness, — which was extended to the governess ! 

I addressed myself to the silent duties of the well or- 
dered repast, while around me, the tide of conversation 
gayly flowed. I was mentally sizing up the situation. I 
could not avoid noticing the empressement of Serge Zas- 
trow, whose devotion to my fair sister was as marked 
as the guarded politeness of his deference to the little 
Countess. He would hide his love, and I knew why. 
“Even the keenest plotter may overshoot the mark!” I 
thought, for the ruse was too clear to thoroughly 
screen Trepoff, — to accentuate his entente cordiale with 
my supposed sister. Zastrow was even too lover-like in 
his bonhomie ! A strange, uneasy feeling crept over me 
then, as I observed the liquid gray eyes of the Greek- 
browed Frenchwoman, regarding my handsome neigh- 
bors, with a flash of keen, surprised scrutiny. A superb 
beauty from the south of France, — Felise Dauvray, in 
her modest repression, was possessed of undeniable per- 
sonal charms! Her molded figure was. grace itself, and 
the gliding vivacity of her graceful movements suggest- 
ed at once the charmer — and the serpent! Ruling the 
dainty child with the simplest glance or gesture, — I could 
yet tell, in the faint quiver of her shoulders, — in the over- 
carelessness of her self-effacement, — that every tingling 
nerve was strained in attention! For, the gentle blandish- 
ments of Serge Zastrow were evidently a torture to the 
woman in whose nature a purely possessive passionate 
love had effaced all other thoughts. Light-hearted and 


84 


FOR HER LIFE. 


careless, — Dimitri Trepoff was just as debonnair as if the 
myrtles of Sorrento hung over him, — in place of the dark 
shadows of the wintry Neva, fortress guarded, — and 
flowing in its icy darkness to a wintry sea ! Evidently — 
both cavaliers had studied well their over-acted roles! 

I was very uneasy at heart, — as I thought of the 
scorned woman, — baffled now in her struggle for the em- 
pire of Zastrow’s heart! Seated there, replying in low, 
musical tones to the solicitous tenderness of old General 
Zastrow, — and the bereaved grandmother of the 
sprightly child. I noted the cat-like attention of Felise 
Dauvray’s furtive manner. 

“The old, old folly !” I mused. “Here are Zastrow and 
Trepoff playing their dual parts, — of interchanging their 
queens of Love and Beauty, — both forgetting that other 
games can be easily played. They seem to forget this 
fiery-hearted governess! What is her own little game? 
I will watch it! I shuddered, however, as I thought of 
the possible consequences of her rage against a woman, 
whom the blinded Zastrow was now showering with the 
gallantries of a truly Russian ardor! So blind is Love! 
So foolish is Passion! 

“If she should watch us, — and detect them! If she 
should discover that this sweet beauty is not my sister!” 
I dared not follow out the idea! In the suddenly-formed 
desire to flee away incontinently from the domain of the 
double-headed black eagle, I prayed that the storm 
might break alone on rash Zastrow’s head. “I hope it 
will be only one of a woman’s jealousy, — not revenge!” 
was my secret wish. “For, Serge Zastrow can weather a 
good round storm of womanly rage! I can not defend 
the sister whom I have so strangely found.” 

While I demurely paid my own court to Madame 
Komaroff, I weighed the possibility of a feigned assault 
by me upon the heart of the discarded love of last year! 
Alas! Beside the perfections of the young officers, — my 
sedate brow and sober speech had no charms! I recog- 
nized, — at once, the guarded position of three visiting 
ladies! Evidently the sweep of Mademoiselle Dauvray’s 
influence began and ended, in the grandparents, and the 


FOR HER LIFE. 


85 


charming little orphaned rosebud Olga ! But, how would 
she strike at Serge? When, — and where? 

And yet, as I gained self-confidence, my eye met the 
merry glances of Serge Zastrow, over my champagne- 
glass, as we drank “To the Emperor !” 

He signally failed to understand my telegraphing winks 
to moderate his unnecessary devotion to Hermione. Zas- 
trow led the feast with all the aplomb of a favorite son 
of the house. Alas! He only partially replaced the gal- 
lant one lying far away on the Danube! 

I was careful to always address a few brotherly ob- 
servations, in English, to the object of Zastrow’s adora- 
tion, and thus escape the watchful scrutiny of Made- 
moiselle Dauvray. “I must not seem to be an absolute 
stranger to my ward and sister!” I thanked Heaven 
that I was separated from the gallant old General seated 
at the head of his board, bravely decked with his glit- 
tering orders and Crimean medals! The reticence of 
the sad-eyed mistress of the house saved me all need- 
less social lying; and whenever I was directly addressed, 
then Zastrow and Trepoff, cunning offence, flashed in, 
and, turning the tide, prompted, guided, or saved me. 
But, Felise Dauvray studied every move I made. My 
spirits had at last returned, when we had finished the 
dinner. As we returned to the drawing-room, I was in 
a more cheerful state of self-possession. When I stepped 
up and kissed the hand of the hostess, I cast my eyes 
upon Serge Zastrow and my sister of this one anxious 
week, standing and whispering earnestly, in a corner of 
the great hall. It was a picture for the eyes of the gods! 
The frank, gallant sailor, the witching beauty, were both 
of nature’s fairest handiwork! I fairly started, as, by 
hazard, in a mirror, I saw the reflection of Felise Dauv- 
ray’s face regarding them, with a look of devilish hatred. 
Already! My blood flowed away from my heart. There 
was a look of doom in the woman’s pitiless gray eyes, 
and I murmured, “Which one!” — for there was the hov- 
ering curse of of a scorned woman’s sleepless vengeance 
in those unrelenting eyes! I turned and gazed upon the 
lovely mysterious foreigner standing there with Olga at 
her side. Through the governess’ guarded manner and 


86 


FOR HER LIFE. 


the necessary self-effacement of the dependent glowed 
the self-assertion of a discarded woman, — once beloved, 
— fighting hard to secretly draw her lover once more 
back to her side! “If the old General and his wife were 
not now lost to all the passing shades of human passion, 
by their overhanging grief, they might see this too-evi- 
dent passion play, and then send her forth !” But it was 
vain to hope! 

“Alas! to what avail!” I groaned, as I followed Zas- 
trow and Trepoff out to the coffee-room, where the half- 
hour dallying over our cigars enabled us to arrange for 
the ensuing movements of the opening play, — a play with 
human lives as the stake! 

“I will come up to your rooms at once, after we spend 
a half hour trifling with the ladies. Serge can then do the 
honors,” whispered Trepoff. I was delighted. “I will 
warn Dimitri of this bold French woman’s self-betrayal,” 
I thought. “Yet, again, to what purpose! A lonely wo- 
man, a child’s governess, — she certainly cannot harm us 
here; for, thank God, etiquette’s slender line still holds 
her aloof!” And I felt, too, a strange pity for the woman 
whose lover knelt now, before her, at another shrine! I 
did not know that the same headlong empressement 
marked all Russian “flirtations.” I was a novice. 

“A week will soon glide away!” I reflected. “Then, 
ho for freedom !” And I mentally resolved not to return 
in the spring to St. Petersburg, but to go from Vienna, 
by Lemberg, to Kiev, and so keep Marguerite, the real 
Marguerite, from the danger of ever discovering her 
beautiful double! 

“Is she not beautiful, — a queen?” proudly questioned 
Trepoff, as my new sister passed the draped doors of 
the Turkish smoking room, arm in arm with the bright- 
eyed Komaroff heiress. “How did she obtain these fem- 
inine splendors?” I queried in amazement at the grand 
toilette and jewels, which heightened Hermione’s rare 
beauty. “The Durand conveyed all here safely!” mur- 
mured Trepoff. “In the event of detention, or being 
forced to pass the winter with her secret friend in the 
Minsk province, these womanly adornments were all 
needed for her to play the part of guest in a great Rus- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


87 


sian chateau! For, life, if lonely in our country homes, is 
still princely. Evidently, this aristocrat conspirator 
down there is enabled to safely invite house parties, 
among whom are always smuggled in some of these 
strange enthusiasts.” It is our game of Hoodman Blind. 

“Has she told you all her story, Dimitri? — her fam- 
ily antecedents?” I was leaning closely to him in eager 
excitement; for I wished to know where he was drifting. 

“Ah! no!” he gloomily replied. “Grahame, she is a 
true heroine! ‘Only in happier days, — when free, — when 
I can prove my loving words, and wander over the 
scenes of my girlhood life with you; or else, if I should 
perish, then you would know all, — to justify my mem- 
ory!’ So she answered me! She is goddess, — woman, — 
and also, the inheritress of a strange family burden!” As 
Trepoff spoke, a rich resonant woman voice rose in a 
passionate love song from the alcoved rear drawing- 
room. Serge Zastrow stirred most uneasily and glanced 
in a strange agitation at the door. “Who is that sing- 
ing?” I cried; for all the pent-up longing of a love 
flooded heart vibrated in the pleading strains. He, the 
Cronstadt Paul, knew too well the voice of his desperate 
Virginia. 

“It’s the Dauvray!” Zastrow bitterly said. “She can 
almost move heaven and earth with her singing!” And 
he leaned against the open door, listening with clouded 
brow, to the veiled appeal of the woman who still loved 
him, and whom he now loved no more! Man’s heartless 
empire of passion ! 

The sound of the clanging of the great outer portals 
caused us all to start up, for Dimitri Trepoff quickly 
sprang to his feet. “Zastrow! Zastrow!” he hastily said, 
“no strangers! Remember our — ” 

But, Captain Zastrow sprang back, and quickly closed 
the door. “By God! it’s Luboff! — and in full uniform, 
too!” We were stunned. 

Three astounded men mutely gazed, in a wild shock of 
sudden alarm, at each other. As Trepoff faltered, with 
returning wits, “Is he alone?” Serge bowed his head, 
and a grim silence reigned. Here was danger. 

“Zastrow!” I muttered, springing to his side, “you 


88 


FOR HER LIFE. 


must use all your wits now! Get him at once out of here, 
in some quiet way. You must! You have one enemy 
in the house! — that French woman! I watched her burn- 
ing, angry eyes! She hates you, for your foolish court 
so openly lavished on our charge; and vou must stop 
that!” 

“Ah! I don’t fear that poor devil of a woman!” he 
anxiously said. “I had forgotten that Luboff once was 
General Komaroff’s adjutant down at Warsaw! He 
served till the dear old chief tired of his merciless bru- 
tality, and had him shipped up here to Haxo, as second 
-in command of the Military Police here. He probably 
called to pay his respects to Madame Komaroff and her 
daughter. Yes, it was an error!” Zastrow cried. “I 
should have guarded against it! And yet, how could I?” 
he groaned. “General Zastrow knows him, and we dare 
not refuse a polite visit! If I could only get her — our 
poor fugitive — out of that parlor!” 

“How did he know that the Komaroff s were here?” I 
questioned, with trembling lips. Dimitri Trepoff was 
standing as if transfixed. His hand was in his breast; 
the singing was suddenly stopped; I could see that Major 
Trepoff stood quivering and ready to dash into the hall! 
It was an anxious moment of agonized doubts. 

“For God’s sake, Dimitri!” hissed Zastrow; “remem- 
ber where you are, — control yourself! What would you 
do?” For a wild look was playing on Trepoff’s face as 
he slowly said, “Him first! — to save Hermione! Then I 
would kill myself, — to save my honor! The hangman 
shall never lay his hand on a Trepoff!” 

“Madman! That would ruin all! Is he the only po- 
liceman in Russia? Here — this way, both of you! He 
must not see us!” And, Zastrow, who had played as a 
boy in the old house, led us around into a rear room; 
then, double-locking the door into the smoking divan, 
he stood on the alert with his hand on the only door 
opening into the great hall. “Safe, now!” he cried. 

Suddenly, he grasped my hand like a vise. He whis- 
pered, “Luboff does not know you ! Cross the hall soft- 
ly; and, from the dining-room, you can see and hear 
the conversation in the front salon! From its side door, 


FOR HER LIFE. 


89 


you can see him take his leave! If it’s only the old Gen- 
eral he meets, then we are perhaps safe! If he is pre- 
sented to Hermione, then to-morrow is not soon enough 
for you to make your dash for Warsaw! I could give 
you private letters to Komaroff!” He was in a sea of 
doubts and fears. And my beating heart was racked in 
new fears. 

“Why do you fear him so?” I whispered. “Ah! Gra- 
liame ! he can not be fooled with our little artifice, which 
so easily controls this simple household! He is also a 
notorious woman lover! Hermione’s dazzling beauty 
will tempt him. He will try to hunt her down, as he has 
too many before ! Go ! go ! and for God’s sake, be care- 
ful!” 

I, Walter Grahame, advocate and counselor, stole in 
there like a thief in the night; and it was easy, through 
the folding-door, for me, standing hidden in the shade, 
to see Colonel Ivan Luboff most fondly bidding adieu 
to a group of ladies. As he turned to the door, I was 
thunderstruck to see my alleged sister, there at the side 
of Comtesse and Mademoiselle Komaroff, and old Gen- 
eral Zastrow, with his stately wife, sheltering pretty Olga 
between them, as the visitor turned away to the great 
hall. I feared to cross it, until I should hear the front 
doors close, and I finally saw the three ladies returning 
to the interrupted music. I was ready to watch his de- 
parture now. 

Fearful of being observed in my undignified employ- 
ment, and sick at heart, I darted across the hall. A sin- 
gle nervous glance down the great corridor was a pre- 
caution of safety. Luboff had not departed! And he 
lingered — why? 

There, by the sweep of the great staircase, stood the 
tall Colonel, his head bowed, and at his side a woman 
whose head was very close to his cropped crown. I 
sprang back into the darkened dining-hall, behind a great 
curtain, and held my breath as Felise Dauvray swept 
swiftly into the room, and then, throwing open the fold- 
ing-doors, sat down, with a quiet smile mantling her firm 
lips, at the grand piano. She had been whispering to 
Ivan Luboff! I dared not ask myself if the Colonel was 


90 


FOR HER LIFE. 


also, in the pages of her Libro d’Oro. “It is a woman's 
own secret! Perhaps the story of some other past life 
episode!” I stealthily rejoined my still prisoned friends. 
“If she is not a shameless intrigante,” I mused, “then, 
the black shadows are gathering down fast! The shad- 
ows of coming doom!” 

When I told my fellow-culprits of the tableaux in the 
grand drawing-room, Zastrow’s eyes blazed in a strange 
fire. “There is great danger in this! Let us go in! 
And for God's sake! no visible emotions!” I followed 
the two officers measuredly, for my heart was torn anew 
with the query of my fears. “Shall I tell them of the 
confidential attitude of Felise, the governess?” She was, 
after all, a defenseless woman, one of Eve’s family, and, 
in my heart, too, rose up the protest, “Is thy servant a 
dog that he should do this thing?” And yet, every heart 
beat was fainter, as I heard the Comtess Komaroff com- 
posedly say, with a pleased expression, “General Haxo 
will also call and pay his respects to-morrow, and he asks 
permission to present General Alexis Radzivill, also 
one of my husband’s former staff officers!” 

I was too busied in watching the strong glare of Trep- 
off’s eyes and the ashen paleness of Zastrow’s cheek to 
see the sudden tremor which shook the form of Hermi- 
one de Vries. She pressed her hands to her breast, and 
tottered. 

With sharp cry of alarm, the nimble governess sprang 
up from the piano! “You are ill, Madame!” — and she 
glided to the side of my new sister, who was the center 
of an eagerly excited throng. Another new danger! 

Sinking into a fauteuil, Hermione feebly closed her 
eyes, and faintly murmuring, “The heat, the lights!” she 
slowly sipped the cordial forced upon her. A strange 
glance of keen intelligence lit up the face of the at- 
tendant governess. “May I assist Madame to her room?” 
There was the ring of a suppressed triumph in her voice. 
Hermione faintly bowed; and then, escorted by the two 
officers, she moved away, and had reached the stairway 
before my brotherhood asserted itself. I was quickly at 
her side, as she slowly mounted the stair. “I fear I shall 
not be able to go out with you to-morrow, Walter,” the 


FOR HER LIFE. 


91 


suffering woman slowly said, turning to me. “If I am 
not well, I will send for you and give you my commis- 
sions. But, do not be alarmed! It is only one of my 
usual nervous attacks!” She played her role well — the 
gallant stranger. “But, what had frightened her so?” 

As I bent over her hand, and kissed it, while mur- 
muring a few words of formal reply, the clear eyes of 
Felise Dauvray were busied searching my very soul. 
And the perfection of the vigorous womanhood of the 
Midi, — her strongly marked beauty, — seemed almost in- 
solent in its triumph of glowing health. We three men 
then stole softly clown the stair as Hermione de Vries 
turned at the door and softly said, “Good night!” Its 
accents fell like the sound of an angel’s voice. Her ex- 
quisite figure, slender and graceful, in the rounded bloom 
of the perfection period between twenty-five and thirty; 
her dark brown eyes, with a sparkling point of light in 
their clear depths; her rich silken tresses, sweeping over 
a nobly poised neck down on shoulders of perfect 
mold, — were the attributes of a royal beauty whose deli- 
cate perfections were heightened by the exquisite low 
voice, breathing like the summer winds of the forest As 
she stood with one rounded arm stretched out, in a wist- 
ful love signal to her silent slave Dimitri, the slender 
white hand, flashing with jewels, trembled like a leaf in 
the storm ! She had robed herself in delicate fleecy-white 
silk; there were banded gleaming silvery pearls upon the 
ivory neck, and a great bunch of Parma violets at her 
bosom, — the tribute of far Italy and Dimitri’s love offer- 
ing. While Zastrow entered the drawing-room to re- 
assure his stately relative, Trepoff and I sought again the 
shelter of the Turkish room. “Who and what is she, 
Dimitri?” I implored; for all the arts and graces seemed 
to linger around her in love. I had already heard her, 
in the brilliant circle of that initial dinner, speaking 
French, German and Italian, with the polyglot Zastrow, 
a very typical Russian, in his versatile gift of tongues. 
And, dowering her graceful form, the spirit of old ro- 
mance, of a lost chivalry, the dauntless bravery of splen- 
did ancestors, seemed to thrill the high-souled woman, 


92 


FOR HER LIFE. 


now seemingly on the very verge of detection. Of de- 
tection, and the forfeit of her life! 

“Who is she? I know not!” solemnly cried Major 
Dimitri Trepoff; but his breast heaved in a silent agony. 
“What is she? She is my other soul! My own soul has 
known her in ages past; for the soul is deathless! My 
faith, my love, my devotion to that embodied spirit, will 
run on beyond the grave, to the bright star-guarded 
gates of Eternity!” He was lost in a soul exaltation. 

“Grahame,” he said, “if death comes to that woman, 
we will meet it together! Mine, in this world yet, I 
swear she shall be! Mine, in death, by the loyalty of our 
kindred spirits; for we are sealed in the sight of God, 
by our common love, our impending fate!” 

“And yet,” I gravely said, “Trepoff, you know noth- 
ing! You risk your whole family here to shield this 
strange beauty!” It was true. 

“Faith is the evidence of things unseen!” he gravely 
answered, as Zastrow silently returned, quickly saying, 
“Let us now say adieu for the evening. Come in with 
me! I must go out to-night and see the Durand, and 
also, have this Haxo and his friend watched to-morrow! 
I shall sleep at your own rooms, Trepoff. Do you stay 
here! You can have one good, clear conference with 
Grahame! Leave here early to-morrow! I’ll meet you 
at the Grand Duke’s! And you, Walter, do not leave 
the house, save when I come to-morrow and send you 
out for an airing! I will have my coachman drive you 
out on the quai here. When General Haxo approaches, 
he will drive up the first, and then halt, as if by accident, 
before the door! I will then be able to screen Hermione 
from any chance meeting; for I shall have Vera Komar- 
off stand guard with her in her own room! No one can 
intrude there! We must keep Haxo away from her! 
His eyes would soon read all.” 

“Zastrow, you are a genius! — a good genius!” I cried. 
“Get us both out of here, as quickly as you can!” “I 
will do so, the very moment I can induce Madame Ko- 
maroff to go back to Warsaw!” he answered. “For if 
our high society finds her here, then the house will be 
overrun, our own safety will vanish, and, God knows 


FOR HER LIFE. 


93 


what may happen! I will set my good fairy Vera at 
work!” 

He was gone; for he left as soon as we could make 
our evening adieu to our noble hosts, and we three men, 
with beating hearts, had watched little Olga Zastrow’s 
evening devotions, before the splendid jeweled icon, 
which hung in the dominant corner of the grand old 
salon. There, while the aged General and his wife mur- 
mured a prayer for the vanished father of the little pray- 
ing innocent, we, brothers now in our sad misgivings, 
haunted with fears of the morrow, vowed a new faith 
and breathed a secret supplication for the gentle stranger 
driven now to bay in the old granite mansion! As I 
turned away, with a moistened eye, to lead Trepoff up 
to my room, the steady gaze of the waiting governess 
burned into my very soul ; but she only murmured an in- 
distinct salutation, as I bowed deeply in passing. I 
feared that strange, hard woman. 

It was late in the gloomy watches of the night before 
Major Trepoff had rehearsed all his new hopes and old 
fears. His brow was ploughed with deep wrinkles of 
care, as he at last wearily said, “I shall not see you to- 
morrow! Remember! For God’s sake! always keep 
your self-control ! One false step ruins all ! Our bridge 
is only that of A1 Serat, — a single hair!” His voice trem- 
bled as he grasped my two hands. “I fear Hermione is 
breaking down at last!” he sadly whispered. 

“Brothers evermore, for we fight now together for her 
life !” I whispered to him. 

And when the gallant soldier left me, I sat confused 
in a dazed state of mingled reaction and apprehension, 
till the first bells of the morning prayers rang. And yet, 
my night vigil brought no golden wisdom. We were 
under the ban. I threw myself down to dream, and 
all the restless morning hours I was haunted, in my 
dull sleep, by the horrible agony of drowning; for I 
was in deep waters, — and, clinging to me, Felise Dauv- 
ray was dragging me down, down, to the black depths, 
as her prey! 

My heart was too sick and sore, as I was bundled up 
in the late afternoon, for the decoy promenade drive in 


94 


FOR HER LIFE. 


General Zastrow’s family sleigh. The beautiful sister of 
my dangerous secret adoption had guarded her room all 
the morning, and it was only dainty Vera at the break- 
fast table, who informed all our anxious circle that Made- 
leine was still lying in her darkened room, too ill even to 
see even me for a single moment. And then, the face of 
Felise Dauvray wore a most puzzled expression, as she 
watched the sprightly child at her side, with her hawk- 
like eyes. It was half-past four o’clock, when a magni- 
ficently appointed sleigh turned down upon the Admir- 
alty Quai, where I had been “standing off and on” for an 
hour. Bundled up in furs, I enjoyed the inspiring scene 
of the noble sheet of water before me, widening out far 
below to the guarded approaches of the Gulf of Fin- 
land. The black and yellow imperial family ensign 
floated proudly there in front of me, on the magnificent 
royal yacht “Polar Star,” lying in the Neva, near a saucy 
little gunboat; and a trim corvette danced on the cur- 
rent, floating enormous blue and white crossed ensigns 
of battle day dimensions. Far away to the southwest, 
my eye rested on the wooded point of beautiful Peterhof, 
and across the icy flood to the north the dim spires of 
the temple covering the ashes of twenty dead Czars and 
Czarinas rose out of the fortress enclosure. “A palace 
and a prison on either hand!” in this northern Venice of 
“a voiceless woe!” I could only see two military caps 
peeping out of great furred capotes, as the three white- 
starred orloffs dashed along toward the Zastrow man- 
sion. My heart quickened as my watchful coachman 
then twisted my own sleigh dexterously in ahead of the 
new-comers. It was truly the dreaded visit. 

I hastened up stairs past the butler, and, on the land- 
ing, met Captain Serge Zastrow in front of my rooms. 
He followed me in. It was a supreme moment of dread. 

“I will soon saunter into the drawing-rooms! Stay 
here and I will report! The whole town — the ‘beau 
monde’ — has been showering cards upon Madame Ko- 
maroff and Vera all the afternoon! How could the gold- 
en circle have known of their arrival !” Serge spoke rap- 
idly, but he was cool and ready for any juncture. 


FOR HER LIFE. 


95 


With a gloomy presentiment of some coming trouble, 
I said: “Luboff spread the news!" 

'‘You are right!” hurriedly replied Zastrow. “And, I 
only fear that many tempting invitations may tie down 
Madame la Comtesse here for a few days longer than we 
hoped. She is a great favorite. But, it would keep us 
ever on the rack; and, there is danger lurking now in 
every shadow!” 

“Right!” I growled, as I threw off my heavy furs. For 
the stolen letters, the colloquy between Luboff and the 
adventurous governess, now weighed heavily upon my 
soul. “Thank God! Hermione is safely hidden — shielded 
by the only sanctuary left to her, the sick room of a 
woman! For, none can decently force themselves on her 
privacy there!” 

A vision of the cat-like Felise flashed on my excited 
brain. “Hermione must be warned against her by me! 
And, also to keep all her own packages securely locked!” 
I smiled even in my suffering; for Zastrow had told me 
the acute Durand had doubly verified the fact of not a 
mark or paper in the luggage of the wanderer. It seemed 
hardly necessary; and yet, we were in Russia! 

“Can she long remain in that isolated safety without 
social suspicions? Can I not make the severe climate 
a pretext for her immediate southward voyage?” So I 
mused, — and yet, how would we get out alone? We 
needed aid. 

Zastrow’ s return, gloomy browed, only filled me with 
a new dismay. He locked the door and drew me at once 
to a seat in the middle of the room. He viciously 
puffed his cigarette. “The devil surely fights against 
us!” he slowly said. “I lingered down there with my 
uncle and aunt while General Haxo and this stranger 
Radzivill paid their respects to the Komaroffs. I have 
always been on pretty good terms with General Haxo, 
to whom I have often done the social honors of Cron- 
stadt, when I was a Fleet-Staff Lieutenant. I bowed in 
acknowledgment only to the stranger, whom, in fact, I 
could hardly see, as he was busied chatting with Vera; 
but, to my astonishment, General Haxo drew me at once 
aside. ‘Zastrow/ he gayly cried, sotto voce, ‘where’s 


96 


FOR HER LIFE. 


your beautiful visitor, — the American? I had hoped to 
meet her! Luboff says that she is the handsomest wo- 
man he has ever seen, even on the Neva! That is a tempt- 
ing story!’ 

“Now, Grahame,” regretfully said the Captain, “this is 
the very worst danger of all! Haxo seems as curious 
and eager as a magpie. I muttered some remarks about 
illness, and early departure ! A bright thought also came 
to me. ‘She will not go into society/ I interpolated, ‘for, 
she can not speak a single word of Russian!’ 

“‘True!’ laughed General Haxo, as he grasped his 
sword and prepared to make way for a society delegation 
of ladies. ‘But, Luboff says that her French, German 
and Italian are simply perfect! I think that I could make 
myself understood! She should stay with us!’” Poor 
Zastrow groaned in dismay. 

“Now, that’s my whole story! I did not quite like 
the gleam of his cunning eyes!” said Captain Zastrow. 
“It may be that he only feels piqued, — it perhaps is only 
a mad social curiosity to meet Hermione, dictated by 
Colonel Luboff’s evident enthusiasm. I never saw a 
man as swept away by a woman’s appearance as Luboff 
was the other night! If you only knew St. Petersburg 
as I do, you could understand the craze of these two mili- 
tary dandies over a new face! Especially with men 
placed like Haxo and Luboff, foreign ladies are a spe- 
cialty, especially travelers! For the fair diplomats all 
shun the name of ‘Police/ — even when military! The 
great dignitaries also despise officers who accept such 
duty. Now, Count Mouravieff and that exquisite grande 
dame, the Countess, also called to pay their respects to 
General Komaroff’s wife and daughter. Mouravieff as 
an ex-Ambassador to Turkey and England, as the pre- 
sent President of the Privy Council, and his haughty 
wife, who is princely born, fairly froze Haxo and the 
other General! So, they stood not on the order of their 
going!” 

“Then the presence of these powerful friends is a help 
to us!” I hopefully said, for I was heartily tired of the 
pent-up anxieties. My suspense was almost madden- 
ing. I wished to shake the snows of Russia off from 


FOR HER LIFE. 


97 


my ulster, and hie “from lands of snows to lands of sun!” 
I was now deciding to consider “personal risk” as a con- 
siderable element of my fat fee, soon chargeable against 
that matter of the four cruisers. “No, no!” I growled. 
“Life is not long enough to spend it in Russia! As for 
lonely sylvan scenes, with snowy foreground; rearing 
horses, frightened moujiks, and remarkably active look- 
ing wolves in the right and left middle distances, I can 
study all that on the walls, in Schreyer’s harmless can- 
vases ! I have no doubt that they are faithful to the wild 
steppe life. I’ll take his artistic word for it, at any rate.” 

Zastrow was now calmly rolling a cigarette. He 
looked up. “These powerful friends are only a splendid 
background for our neat little, fiction ! They accept you 
and Hermione, — on trust! We could readily count on 
them, in any private matter of any nature, no matter 
how grave! For, kissing goes by favors in this strange 
land! But, any police trouble, — any so-called conspiracy 
muddle, — goes right before the summary military courts; 
and, alas! no one can then help! For the harm is always 
wrought, the culprit’s doom is sealed, before friendly in- 
fluence, even the highest, can avail! And, to save the 
feelings of the imperial family, the Privy Council handles 
all revisions of these cases, coming under the ‘repressive’ 
orders! The Grand Duke Constantine is simply relent- 
less in hunting down all enemies of the imperial family! 
The terrible death of the late Emperor, the agony of the 
present Empress, once the lovely Dagmar, over letters, 
red scrawls, hideous pictures, and all these grim bug-a- 
boos, has maddened the personal friends of the royal 
pair! In the palace rooms, in the Imperial carriages, on 
the royal yachts, in the special railway trains, these night- 
mare things are often deftly secreted! They have even 
been hurled into the Empress’ own carriage at military 
reviews! In crowds, coming from the opera, they are 
received, and they have been pinned to the very pillows 
of the imperial children! Awful hideous threats! The 
railways, too, are mined; society is all undermined; the 
great explosion at the Winter Palace hurled sixty men 
to a sudden death, beneath the feet of a crowd of twenty 
royal scions! Only the temporary indisposition of a 

7 


98 


FOR HER LIFE. 


visiting German dignitary saved the whole imperial fam- 
ily there from a bloody death then. It was a horrid 
scheme. So, if these police tyrants dog us, any detention 
of Hermione means to her only death! To us all, fam- 
ily ruin; and then, at least, banishment for life! Now, 
should General Haxo’s offensive gallantry or Luboff’s 
evil eye set them on a still hunt after this new beauty, 
it would not be very long till they would find out some 
sure way to involve her, so as to get her over there to the 
fortress, to detain her, near them, helpless — in their 
power !” he groaned. 

“Zastrow, you have surely taken fearful risks in this!” 
I cried, in a renewed apprehension. “I had to do it, — for 
Trepoff ! And, I pray to God, we are not all finally over- 
whelmed!” he answered. ' “Those fellows might bring 
forward at their ease any kind of incriminating evidence, 
— over there! I believe in Hermione! I know that she 
has simply played the part of messenger with those 
trashy revolutionary ciphers! All the women of France 
in ’93 were doing the same! The English Jacobites, too, 
have done the very wildest things ! I do not wish to see 
this noble woman, foolish though she may have been, 
meet the end of a Jeanne d’Arc, a Charlotte Corday, a 
Lamballe, or a Marie Antoinette! If any luckless slip 
of ours, give them the chance, Hermione may spend 
lonely months over there,” — he gloomily pointed, — 
“and, with only men like Haxo, or Luboff, to meet in the 
deep obscurity of the dungeon! In those awful under- 
ground casemates, the shrieks and yells of those whom 
God has forgotten, never even rouse the brutal sentinels 
walking overhead! They have ways, over there, to daunt 
the most fearless heart; to break the very strongest will! 
The common executioner waits ready to reward an ob- 
durate resistance !” 

“I should think, Zastrow,” was my response, “that you 
would not expose Hermione to the risks of this open 
salon, where almost any dignitary of Petersburg may 
now meet her! Where, as you say, General Haxo, Lub- 
off, and that class of dangerous intrigants, cannot be 
excluded!” He paused in deep thought. 

“Ah! Grahame,” he replied, “we must still keep up 


FOR HER LIFE. 


99 


the dumb show so easily imposed on the old General 
and his wife! Hermione must, at least, join the family 
at all the dinners, and in the evening also. Remember, 
even that cursed French woman has eyes! You must 
play your brotherly role to the letter — perfect — to-mor- 
row! Go in and out of her rooms frequently. Take all 
innocent liberties, and, I will see that she is warned to 
retire when these callers come! She can easily plead the 
valid excuse of not speaking Russian, and also her early 
departure!” 

“I will do as you say! You are right! I have been 
so far very clumsy. But, I can hardly believe General 
Haxo is a fiend at heart! He looks gentlemanly — even 
soldierly!” 

“He is hardly a bad man at heart — though a crazy 
voluptuary!” mused Zastrow. “He was really selected 
for efficiency, and it is an open secret that the Grand 
Duke Constantine himself inspires his greatest acts of 
severity. But, it is far different with Ivan Luboff! He 
is a brute at heart ! It was he who gave the late Emperor 
that devil dog, ‘Golden,’ who tore a dozen persons half 
to pieces for innocently approaching the Emperor’s per- 
son. How they ever trained that fiend from hell, I do 
not know!” 

“It was Luboff also who planned the room, with a 
hollow wainscoting, and all its secret cabinets, for the 
forty soldiers! It was he, too, who devised the masked 
corridor, with a hidden gallery arranged so that all pe- 
titioners and those approaching the imperial presence 
were continually under the range of a dozen ready rifles 
for forty paces! His agents in black masks, besides, 
have inspected every room in the palace, striking terror 
to all the superstitious servants and underlings! He 
learned his skilled brutality under the cover of the great 
gloomy stone quadrangle of the Vassili Ostrov! I do 
not know if he invented that disappearing chair, which 
often took the suspected down from an apparently so- 
cial interview, to be hurried into closed black wagons 
below and driven from thence to the fortress’ A damna- 
bly ingenious contrivance!” 


100 


FOR HER LIFE. 


“I fancied that such tales were merely yarns of the 
novelists’ imagination!” I whispered. 

“Grahame!” solemnly said Zastrow; “over two hun- 
dred well-known people suddenly disappeared after that 
great explosion (the fatal one), and some of these were 
taken on the street! Even foreigners who had foolishly 
meddled were among these vanished ones. One young- 
fellow, only for crossing a room, at an elegant ball, and 
merely speaking with Sophie Perovsky, was banished to 
Siberia! And, in fact, the long boxes, made rectangular 
to hide their true character, hauled away at night by 
wagon loads from the grim place I named, were some- 
times tenanted by the bodies of those who had been 
strangled there, forthwith! 

“When a brute like Luboff, who has graduated from 
such ghastly scenes, is given a lease of power, then, God 
help the man or woman who falls into his clutches!” 

“Amen!” I said, as the dinner dressing bell rang out. 
I was just sufficiently alarmed to spread a too-sprightly 
gayety over my social behavior that evening. I saw the 
demure Felise Dauvray watching me, with a quietly 
amused expression. As the Yankees say, “I laid it on 
too thick.” Her shifting face recalled to me then, her dan- 
gerous causerie with Colonel Ivan Luboff. And, the wine 
became bitter, indeed, to me, when I thought, with a 
sudden fear, that for eight long anxious days I had re- 
ceived no letters from Paris! I feared that I knew the 
reason. 

And my stolen family archives, — where were they? 
“In whose vile hands?” I moderated my gayety, and 
then sought the rooms of my alleged sister. While Zas- 
trow carried the heavy burden of his cares under a light 
mask of gayety, in the crowded salons, I timidly knocked 
at the door of my “sister’s” rooms. On entering, I was 
not surprised to find the sufferer still in the necessary 
role of invalid. My stay was a brief one; for I learned 
that Hermione had not only sedulously played her part, 
but that she was suffering deeply. 

“You may think that I am only dallying with the con- 
venient sham of sickness,” she whispered; “but the 
shadow of doom hangs over us! That artful French wo- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


101 


man has sought a dozen excuses to enter my rooms to- 
day, under the pretense of solicitude for my supposed 
illness! I begin to fear her, and I long — oh! I crave — 
to get away, even at any risk! To make the attempt; 
for,” — she broke down sobbing as her hands clasped 
mine convulsively, — “I fear! I fear!” 

“What?” I murmured. 

“Oh! I cannot — I dare not — tell you! All my haunt- 
ing fears! Do not ask me! It is too horrible!” And 
I was fain to calm her; for she was crushed. 

“Now, listen to me!” I tried to cheer her. “Zastrow 
will have you driven out, under the protection of Coun- 
tess Vera, to-morrow! He will also skillfully protect you 
from further sudden social intrusions! I will remain 
here in the house on watch! Trepoff will also avoid the 
house, and court his daily duties! As soon as Madame 
Komaroff can be gently molded to our will, you and I 
will proceed with them at once to Warsaw! One night 
of ‘good fairy’ protection there, and then we will be hap- 
pily over the frontier, and out of darkest Russia! You 
would not bring ruin on the General, or down now on our 
friends!” 

“Death first!” the spirited woman cried. “If it were 
not for the useless exposure of Zastrow and Trepoff, — I 
would steal out to-night and try and run the gauntlet 
myself, alone, in peasant garb! I might dye my poor 
tell-tale face! I can speak” — and she suddenly stopped, 
as I said: 

“You could not dye your form, — your bearing, — your 
graceful carriage! No! You would be only a self-sacri- 
ficed woman!” 

My warning to watch her luggage was most gravely 
received. “I have already studied that! An admired dis- 
order reigns in all my boxes! And, — thank Heaven! — 
there are no marks, — no papers! Even my own jewels 
are not to be tell-tale evidence!” She pointed to a travel- 
ing case. “All unmarked, too!” 

“You must have studied this desperate voyage with 
great care!” I finally said, as I rose. 

“Too long! Too devotedly!” she murmured in re- 
ply. “Good night, Brother!” she then faintly smiled. 


102 


FOR HER LIFE. 


“And, to you I leave the faithful watch of my rooms to- 
morrow! I fear, — I do not know what! — something! — 
and, — always the very worst!” 

“I will send for you to come in the morning, — when I 
am ready for my ride, — and you may then take me down 
to the salon, as if we had been conferring on business!” 
I longed to tell her my own secret of the stolen letters! 
The story of the governess and Luboff, too, trembled on 
my tongue! Yet, I feared to provoke her own gloomy 
disclosure. And so, I stole away, with a forced com- 
posure, — to listen to Mademoiselle Dauvray’s really ex- 
quisite music, — and, over the ten o’clock tea, to hear 
old General Zastrow tell of his Crimean episodes. 

Zastrow, — a most courteous interpreter, — cheered me 
up, as we parted for the night. A week more at most! 
And, — then, hurrah for the way out! I was more re- 
signed than comforted; for I had always a dull, aching 
band pressing upon my brain, — and, I slept only the 
dreamless sleep of exhaustion! It was a horrible agony 
— this life under the suspended sword of Fate! The Zas- 
trow mansion was greatly enlivened the next day by 
Captain Zastrow’s excursion with Madame Komaroff, 
for a round of formal return visits, and I was quite the 
brother a la mode, — as I waived adieu to Countess Vera 
and the pallid-faced Hermione, who was now so success- 
fully muffled up as to be able to defy even General Haxo’s 
sharp eyes. It was a day of peace — of rest, of brighten- 
ing hopes! In my own rooms, busied with writing and 
a careless turning over of a few fresh reviews and jour- 
nals, I suddenly thought of the lonely, unguarded apart- 
ment of my strange sister! An uneasy feeling at once 
come over me! “If Mademoiselle tries to rummage there, 
— I will take the fair brotherly privilege of interrupting 
her!” My legal nerve had availed me in a quiet watch of 
that interesting, broad-browed young person, whose sup- 
ple grace and firm, decided movements, with her easy 
freedom, proved a perfect union of spirit, soul, and body! 
She had drifted by sheer quiet self-assertion into a veiled 
but effective control of the whole household. “It will 
surely be in the early afternoon, my lady!” I thought, as 


FOR HER LIFE. 


103 


I remembered the gay child’s necessarily regular lessons, 
of which I had most audible evidence. 

Seating myself on watch, where I could see the en- 
trances of Hermione’s rooms, by a guarded arrange- 
ment of my own, I felt a quick flutter of the heart 
when Felise Dauvray glided at last into the absent 
woman’s apartments! My heart beat violently, as 
after a few minutes, I then noiselessly crossed 
the hall, — and, with an affected carelessness, en- 
tered the room, — with an emptied inkstand in my 
hand. A gentle fraud of my own! I started back 
in surprise! There, — on her knees, beside Hermione’s 
locked boxes, — the governess crouched, — and she turned 
a white and startled face at first upon me ! 

“I beg pardon!” I gravely remarked, — closely scan- 
ning her most compromising position! 

“Ah-h! Ciel! How you frightened me! Monsieur 
Gra-hame!” she softly murmured, as she rose, panting. 
“What a misfortune! I have lost one of the jewels from 
one of my few family rings! I have carefully searched 
everywhere else; and, I thought, — perhaps, — in aiding 
Mademoiselle Gra-hame, — I had lost it here! A family 
jewel!” 

Her aplomb was perfect, — and with the easy gesticula- 
tion of her witty race, she then waved her shapely hand 
before me. And, in an unconcerned manner, continued 
her search in every corner. 

“I must ask all the servants to aid — to sweep! Par- 
don!” — and then, with an unconstrained bow she was 
gone. She had caught her second wind — the sly boots! 
I filled my inkstand from Hermione’s desk, and then, 
leaving the door partly opened, resumed my labors. “The 
first round — a draw!” I grimly decided. For a half-hour 
the graceful French woman led around a busy train of 
the domestics after her in her anxious search. Was this 
an innocent little fraud? I fear so; — and — the long day 
wore on. 

There was only the calm of a family happiness brood- 
ing around the dinner table, accentuated by the general 
rejoicings of the circle at Hermione’s reappearance, when 
we reassembled. 


104 


FOR HER LIFE. 


My heart froze within me, in a feeling of another vam 
ished hope, however, as Madame Komaroff turned and 
remarked, with a most gracious smile, to my sister, “I 
can promise you a very rare pleasure for a stranger. The 
Mouravieffs have placed two opera boxes at my disposal 
for the gala performance which is to occur next week! 
The Emperor and Empress are both expected to be pres- 
ent! It will thus be a great occasion, and I shall com- 
mission our young knights to escort you and Vera! There 
will be also room for Mr. Grahame; or else Dimitri can 
burden himself with us!” — as Countess Komaroff smiled 
at her hostess, I felt that we were surely to be brought 
face to face with the most dangerous social ordeal. A 
red spot flamed out on Zastrow’s cheeks as he murmured, 
“With all my heart!” — and then bent over his glass. 

“It will, perhaps, be your only chance, my dear young 
lady,” calmly continued the patrician visitor, whose every 
wish was law, — “to see our gilded circle in all its 
parade bravery before we all return to Warsaw! For, our 
border city is far inferior to this grand Babel! It is, after 
all, only a frontier fortress now!” she sighed. 

No one dared to find any sudden excuse for a valid re- 
fusal, and I was decidedly heavy-hearted, as we sepa- 
rated for the night. 

“If luck does not aid us, — in some unforeseen way, — 
we must try to face this thing, and to shield Hermione, — 
and then, — after this opera party, leave for Warsaw just 
as soon as possible! I will work on Vera!” muttered 
Zastrow, who had again most assiduously courted Her- 
mione, — all the long evening, — under the burning eyes 
of the jealous Felise! 


CHAPTER V. 

WARNED AND WATCHED. 

I began to feel stifled by the dangerous atmosphere of 
the patrician house on the Admiralty Quai, when Captain 
Zastrow and I smoked our after breakfast cigars at ease, 
the next morning I remarked to him : “This hidden game 


FOR HER LIFE. 


105 


is too much for me! I am failing! I must make a diver- 
sion! I have thoroughly established myself here in the 
normal character of brother, and I only fear now to be 
caught napping by that ardent young woman, whom you 
so infdicitously attached to your fortunes, in those fatal 
summer days at Cronstadt! I have thoroughly warned 
Hermione. She, too, is on her guard, and she now tells 
me that Trepoff has adroitly arranged to meet her, as if by 
accident, at Madame Mouravieff’s reception this after- 
noon. There, a secluded boudoir will be at their dis- 
posal, with Vera as a watchful guardian! For those two 
ladies can apparently busy themselves, and Madame Zas- 
trow and Vera’s mother are also occupied. This will en- 
able our lovers to free their minds! I will show myself 
to-day around the city alone. I will go down to the de- 
partments and publicly visit the hotels and shops. We 
must spread out.” 

“It is a very good idea. It will certainly cheer you up,” 
replied Serge. “For, while waiting for the Warsaw de- 
parture, you can even go out alone in the evenings. The 
more do we scatter ourselves the better. But either you 
or I must always stay here on guard, to aid and watch 
over Hermione each evening. As for Dimitri, he tells 
me that he is no longer followed, nor dogged, and 
watched at present. Somebody has tired of their atten- 
tions to us. His desperate public devotion to the little 
actress has already earned him the proud distinction of a 
good deal of extra gossip. Even one of the young 
grand dukes whispered to him laughingly, ‘Major, she is 
very good form; where did you find her?’ Now, if all 
goes on well, Trepoff can get a three-months’ leave later, 
and going over himself to Stockholm, can quietly take a 
steamer to Havre or Hamburg, and then meet Hermione 
in Switzerland, or even England, when she is out of 
Russia. For, he seems to live only for the future and to 
marry this meteor!” “Do you think that Haxo has re- 
laxed his sly investigation?” I questioned, for I was bur- 
dened with my own secret knowledge ! I trembled for my 
letters ! 

“Well!” slowly considered Zastrow, “it looks that way. 
They have not repeated their official call, and we have all 


106 


FOR HER LIFE. 


dropped smoothly into this easy family life. You see that 
dear old General Zastrow never lifts his eyes to follow us. 
Hospitality is his second religion. He plays hours with 
little Olga, rides out with his dear old sweetheart wife, 
or moons away over these interminable Crimean cam- 
paigns which gave him a dozen medals, even if they broke 
the heart of the proud Nicholas! 

“Russia’s present strength is born of that terribly hu- 
miliating exposition of our military weakness, even bur- 
dened with colossal numbers, and notwithstanding our 
untold sacrifices and dogged bravery! Yes, you can 
safely stir around. It will serve to clear your mind, and 
can do no harm. I will watch inside and outside,” he con- 
cluded. “If I could only avert that unwelcome opera 
party ! But, it is fate !” 

“One thing you can avert,” I warned him. “Moderate 
your loverlike attentions, and the marked empressement, 
as regards our friend Hermione. You must consider the 
situation. You go on too far, too far! I observe that 
Felise Dauvray does not watch the sweet little Countess 
Vera at all. Vera evidently understands you!” He 
smiled knowingly. “Her presence here is a natural re- 
sult of the family intimacy. But you may incite this jeal- 
ous soubrette to some mean attempt at revenge. Do you 
not see that she would gladly do anything to get Her- 
mione out of the way, for, believe me, never yet was the 
discarded woman who did not hope to win her lover back! 
Never yet a woman who had loved as you say this cool 
governess did love once but secretly clung to the man 
once under her empire. To see you lavishing your ap- 
parent tenderness on another, under her eyes, is an 
agony.” 

“You are quite an enthusiast, an expert in love mat- 
ters,” he laughed. “Grahame! I will cool down! I will 
divide myself up a little! It is prudent! I only acted to 
show off the Dauvray! I must shield Vera! As to 
Felise, I have seen nothing in her conduct savoring of 
hidden anger.” He was a little sheepish over his past 
victory in the flower-decked fields of Venus. The rosy 
record rose up before him to accuse. 

“Certainly not. General Haxo even is not likely to per- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


107 


sonally glower at Dimitri Trepoff. These people do 
not wear their hearts on their sleeves! But, there’s his 
enemy always in his eye. And this remarkably vigorous 
and handsome young French woman is yours. She 
hates you— until she has called you back. A tropical 
storm of tenderness would kill you. There is but one 
saving piece of strategy left for you. If you could only 
bring in some other man who would engage her, the 
amatory Felise, in a new love affair. That would be a 
very fortress of defense! A rock of refuge!” 

“Ah! Impossible!” replied Zastrow. “You see, Gra- 
hame, while these high class tutors and governesses are 
all treated with a due ceremonial courtesy in the family, 
— they are not at all considered as social equals! — Inde- 
pendent acquaintance, — personal friendships, — any real 
participation in society life, is an utter impossibility for 
them! No man of rank in Russia would be able to openly 
devote himself to a woman in such a position. I care not 
how superior she is! Either she would be met, only se- 
cretly, in a distant social circle, — or else the love episode 
out of Russia ! In a real passion, — the very first step to- 
wards social equality, vould be such a person quitting 
forever her calling! She could retire into even mod- 
est poverty, — the humblest surroundings, and then, 
honorably marry above her rank! But, — while in the 
professional rank, — a free social equality is absolutely im- 
possible ! If I could only get some gay young devil to 
run off with her!” he sighed. “But that is, alas! im- 
possible! She has a very snug nest of her own here! 
And she knows it! She is allowed a freedom due largely 
to the fact that there are no young gentlemen or ladies 
in the house ! The question of etiquette does not come up 
at all with Olga, — a mere child, — as yet. She must obey! 
No! Felise knows and values her place! She has her 
own schemes, too!” 

“And, — to be run off — she would also have to be will- 
ing! True, what I know of her,— she would be a very 
serious charge ! Moreover, it would make a present scan- 
dal, and it would cloud our whole presence here! Ah! 
No! Such women’s little games are only played,— to the 
last card,— in those wealthy households where some old 


108 


FOR HER LIFE. 


patrician falls alone, — under their soft blandishments; — 
or else, on distant country estates where some wild young 
nobles may carry on an ignoble intrigue, — strictly veiled 
from the other members of the family! These episodes 
are always the result of idle hours, and lonely surround- 
ings! No ! I must quietly drift along past Felise’s bal- 
lenes, — and, — when I marry, — then take Vera at once 
away — until I have got the sly Felise forever out of this 
household! After my marriage, I should not hesitate to 
dig a pit for her feet! I will do it then! — for Olga’s 
sake! And, — yet — I do not like to follow her up! I 
would rather she would dig the pit herself!” 

“Beware that she does not dig one for you, — here, — 
now, Serge, — and so endanger your happy marriage!” 

I was only too eager to tell him all, — and, — yet, — I 
dared not ! The Captain laughed. 

“Oh! Grahame! You take these little things too seri- 
ously, — in your own practical American style! The fact 
is, — Felise has eminently the prehensile nature! She will 
soon get her velvet-sheathed claws upon someone else — 
and — then, — forget me! These denizens of Russia have 
their facile hearts fitted up with compartments, — ranging 
from A to Z. Their expressive eyes are like lighthouses ! 
They shine for all! Remember what Byron says of the 
woman lancee! First, she loves — the lover! Then, the 
habit of loving! — It “fits her loosely, — like an easy glove!” 
No! Walter! This sly devil is simply waiting till the 
Komaroffs go away. — She will then make her running on 
me, — for a last appeal! Tears and sighs! If she sees, at 
last, that I am not to be ‘called back,’ then her little 
masked batteries will open on Trepoff, — or, with that 
strange discernment of these fair sinners, — some other 
equally eligible man! There is a splendid circle of my 
dead cousin’s officer friends and old comrades who call 
here, in kindly memory, — to testify their respect for his 
mourning parents, and also to chatter an hour with the 
graceful child! I shall probably have one good tropical 
storm when you go! And then, — thank Heavens — the 
atmosphere will clear!” 

He was so bothered that I burst out laughing! He 
was afraid of his record! 


FOR HER LIFE. 


109 


“Aye — she loot the tears down fa, — for Jock o’ Hazlc- 
dean,” I murmured, as I watched Serge Zastrow, — the 
recalcitrant lover. — 1 sighed to think that he was a type 
of those dangerous sailor chaps, — always eagerly answer- 
ing love’s signals — for close quarters, — and then, — alas! 
so quick to run out of range of the fair enemy’s guns ! 

“I suppose that yours has been a somewhat adven- 
turous career — in this myrtle-shaded pathway of love!” 
said I. 

“Oh! I have had mes beaux jours!” — modestly re- 
plied Zastrow, — “but, on the whole, — my past has been 
only an encyclopedia of regrets, — my vulnerable heart is 
deeply scarred with the marks of grappling-hooks — 
though lightly shaken off!” 

“Can I do anything further for you to-day?” he gayly 
demanded. “I shall breakfast with Trepoff, at Donon’s, 
en cabinet particulier, and there meet his supposed en- 
slaver! He has made quite a clatter around town with 
his little ‘indiscretion,’ for several of the ‘high life’ circle 
are desperately trying to cut out his fair prize, — from 
under his very guns !” 

“Yes! That was a success!” 

“I should fancy such a social faux pas might embroil 
such a man with the Grand Duke, — and, — even the ladies 
of the ‘haut monde’! It would, — I know, — in America! 
It would be noised near and far!” 

“Bah!” lightly cried Zastrow. “You do not know the 
infinite charity of the Russian ladies, — who only admire 
a man for his prowess in the field, — or else in the soft 
conquests of love! — Mars and Venus go hand in hand 
with us. We have not the affected canting hypocrisy of 
English society, — or the absurd Puritanism of your own 
socially unsettled land! There is a naturalness in the re- 
lation of the sexes in Russia to which we owe the vigor of 
our race, — the high spirit of our men and women, — and 
the inexpressible life and verve which tones up all our 
social life! It is a strange paradox! The flame of love 
burns nowhere fiercer than in our chilly land from the 
White Sea to the Ochotsk! From Cape Tchelyskin to 
Tashkend every woman seems to regard each man she 
meets as a possible lover, — and to be prepared for the 


110 


FOR HER LIFE. 


gentle artifices which may end either in her becoming a 
proud conqueror, or a softly entreating victim ! There is 
an inexhaustible fund of love-making power in the Rus- 
sian cavalier which proves him to be a master of this art 
of arts! Oh! No!” he laughed, “Trepoff will not come 
to grief! It would be a vulgar provincialism for the men to 
lift their eyebrows, — and the women, softly smiling, will 
merely murmur, T told you so! He is a gallant fellow, 
— and, a born devil ! quite a triumph !’ 

“Many a fluttering fan will call Trepoff to the side of 
women glad to know the victor in a little love tourna- 
ment, wherein it is whispered — even one of the irresistible 
young Grand Dukes has couched his lance in vain! It’s 
the very safest thing for him, now, to keep this racket 
up! He has taken his little social prescription most cheer- 
fully ! I must say that ! He plays his part even too well !” 

“You can do something for me, Serge!’’ I remarked, 
after a secret council of war of one! “I am going down 
to the Winter Garden to-night! I will take a little pri- 
vate look at that arctic Closerie de Lilas, — and — in my 
own humble way, — imitate your dashing Dimitri! For I 
can be a bit reckless, too !” 

Regardless of Zastrow’s incredulous smile, — I said very 
gravely, “And, I wish you to beg the Durand woman to 
meet me there, at the restaurant, for supper. I must see 
her! It is important to me, and — private!” 

“All right!” cheerfully said Zastrow. “But, — you are 
a very devil of a fellow for a Philadelphia lawyer! — a 
knight of the green bag! I only wish you had been born 
into the Chevalier-Garde! But, you shall have your little 
flirtation with Marie Durand! You are safe in her 
hands!” 

He left me in high good humor, and winked as he 
strolled away! He did not know my secret cares: Those 
letters! . . . 

I was myself happy on my return to the house in the 
afternoon. For, as on many other occasions, neglected 
business had moved itself on! At the Department, I 
found all the interminable papers of my claim had been 
pushed through, by some pressing affairs moving on be- 
hind them. The great Bismarck maintains rightly that 


FOR HER LIFE. 


Ill 


one-half of current affairs settle themselves! Not only 
was I now free to go home, but, a fat fee and a highly 
flattering reception surely awaited me in Philadelphia. 
I felt at peace with all the world, and the pale wintry sun 
warmed up many degrees! 

It was hard for me to believe in the hidden currents 
whirling along under the smooth-surfaced Hellgate of 
Petersburg society. For, my heart was lifted up a little! 
As I drove around the streets, — the passing show, — the 
glittering crowds, the throb and thrill of a great city, all 
inspirited me, — and I was highly keyed up with my neat 
professional success! 

“I will outwit them all yet!” I fancied, and then I 
sought in my mind for a safe and sly ready means of send- 
ing forth my latest news and some private intelligence to 
America. A lucky inspiration seized upon me! It the socie- 
ty of the nameless can run letters in here past the frontiers, 
then they may far more easily run them out! They have 
many chances! I will write several unsigned letters to 
my Paris bankers, and also send them a cablegram to 
my clients in Philadelphia, and also a sealed letter, with- 
out address, which I can simply say is to be sent at once 
to my sister! The bankers will understand all! 

I was so elated with the discovery that thus, neither 
my own name nor hers would appear to be a guide to 
the police that I whistled in glee as I rode along, which 
American barbarism evoked the great surprise of others 
gaily rolling by! For only a land of freedom is a land 
of whistlers! The sibilant notes of joy issue not from the 
unpuckered lips of the dwellers under the shadow of the 
mailed arm of the Tsar! 

“I will give these to Durand, — coupled with a fifty- 
rouble note, — and thus I shall laugh you all to scorn!” 

I snapped my fingers gayly at that ogre of Russian 
tyranny, — the unlovely Colonel Ivan Luboff, — as I 
dressed for dinner! 

The stories of the easy-going love life of the upper 
classes hi Russia had given me a possible new key to 
General Haxo’s conduct! “I must confer with Serge!” 
I decided. 

Now, General Haxo, lingering in his splendid state, 


112 


FOR HER LIFE. 


near the Grand Duke Constantine, may have merely been 
struck by Hermione’s witching beauty! It would be easy 
for him to distinguish her as a new face, — a stranger one, 
— open to his arts. I wonder if he only sought to scrape 
an amatory acquaintance —to pursue her with no grimmer 
ideas of torture than the gentle pangs of one of these 
“go as you please” Russian passions! For, it seems from 
Zastrow’s spirited remarks, that these frankly indelicate 
pursuits by the sons of Adam are by no means uncom- 
mon. Rather the rule. She may have lingered in the 
Marble Palace, — while waiting for the sharer of her dan- 
gerous tryst! Luboff, too, may have seen her there. 
Now that they have finally run her to earth, here — the 
friendship of the Zastrows, — the powerful Komaroffs, — 
the proud Mouravieffs, — may have cooled the ardor of 
these military Lovelaces! They may be afraid to thrust 
their unblushing attentions upon a woman who has rank 
and recognition here! Sour grapes! 

Zastrow laughed at this theory as he joined me before 
the sounding of the silver gong! “You may be right, — 
my legal Don Juan. — You are a great intellect,— Gra- 
hame!” he said, with a very wicked smile! “Now will 
you have a sleigh from the house for your own Paphian 
meanderings to-night?” 

“Oh! No!” I answered. “Pll catch one up on the 
Place Rasvodni. I shall brave my fortunes alone !” And 
Zastrow smiled devilishly. I stole away from the now 
happy circle at the table, taking advantage of the evening 
departure of Mademoiselle Dauvray with pretty Olga! 
My papers for the mail were all prepared, and so I lingered 
for a half an hour with the two gentlemen over a cigar, 
while waiting the time when I could repair to the merry 
Winter Garden! 

“She'll be there !” gayly cried Zastrow. “I carried your 
soft summons! Don’t push your conquest too far!” he 
rallied me. “Think of your faith — pledged in Philadel- 
phia. For, the Durand is yet fairly presentable!” 

My substantial evening make-up was a deliberate imi- 
tation of the heavy English tourist ! I thought, with pride 
in my acumen, that Englishmen were safe all the world 
over. The Queen’s substantial shadow covers them all! 


FOR HER LIFE. 


113 


A last fear shook my nerve! After I had exchanged a 
few words with Hermione, in her own rooms, and then, 
been made the bearer of a note of orders for our stead- 
fast ally, — I descended the stair, coming face to face 
suddenly with Mademoiselle Dauvray, — who was also 
robed for an outing, — I was at a loss for a remark to 
vary the formal bow! I had timorously tried to win her 
good graces, and to veil any apparent distrust! But, 
Felise was the prude of prudes! Coy, so very coy! And, 
her eyes always dropped before me, as if she were a 
submissive handmaiden of patriarchal days! A soft, sleek, 
smooth specimen of governesses. 

“Did you find your lost jewel, Mademoiselle?” I casu- 
ally said. 

“Thanks, yes, Monsieur! In fact,” — she smiled, — “I 
am going to the jeweler’s now.” With a pleasant nod, 
she passed out into the night! 

“Not so very dangerous looking! She has certainly 
charming ways of her own!” I soliloquized. I did not 
wonder at the effect of her liquid eyes, at short range, 
on the sailor’s tender heart! Dragging Zastrow away 
into a safe corner, while the old General waited for an 
evening game of piquet, — I anxiously questioned him! 
“They can’t trace me about that tunnel affair! I am in 
no danger in the Winter Garden, am I? No trap set for 
me! No spies.” 

“Oh! No! Simply watch over yourself there. Don’t 
get mixed up in the crowds! You, of course, could not 
take care of yourself if anything serious happened! As 
for the underground cave, — its history has been officially 
traced, — and it has made quite a stir in local circles ! But, 
it is all old matter now! We are all clear of that entangle- 
ment. They look farther back than our party as to 
that!” 

“You see,’’ he said, “when Loris Melikoff was dictator, 
pour le moment, — this tunnel was dug by some mad peo- 
ple who wished to lay a mine under the street, through 
which the Czar would have to go, in a solemn proces- 
sion, to the sacred Kazan cathedral! There was an in- 
finite labor wasted in its construction! The booths in the 
Italiansky have all had a dozen occupants since then! 


114 


FOR HER LIFE. 


These traders come and go! The earth must have been 
secretly carried away in boxes, packages and handbags, 
and then thrown into the Neva at night. The foundation 
walls and street arches also kept the water of the marshes 
out! A dog-hole branch leading to a loaded crater under 
the street has been also traced out! It is now openly 
whispered that an anonymous letter warned the Czar of 
the plan, — and that the route of the procession was sud- 
denly changed after it started. They only knew it was on 
the old line. Evidently the chamber under the street was 
afterwards unloaded, for the hidden electric wires are fixed 
and leading still there ! The explosives intended for a na- 
tional crime were safely hidden in this underground room, 
and then left behind to execute a mute automatic venge- 
ance on the hated police! It seems to be clear that this old 
naunt has been only used as a temporary meeting and hid- 
ing place ! It was far too small for a secret printing den, the 
smoke and steam might easily betray them! Any great 
activity would have attracted instant attention! The old 
restaurant and eating house, at the other end of the in- 
geniously arranged gallery was operated by a lot of hum- 
ble social malcontents, and at one time even poor Sophie 
Perovska worked there, living with one of her four prin- 
cipal lovers! For, it seems that, poor foolish girl! she 
only used her charms to draw in those needed by their 
unholy cause! A talented young chemist was one of her 
victims, — and, also the desperate student, who only left 
a piece of a hand and a wristband as a ghastly token after 
the great tragedy! He was nerved up by her love to 
throw a bomb which shook the whole world! Strange 
love craze — leading on to death!” 

Zastrow concluded: “I made it my own business to 
make some confidential researches about this tunnel. In 
the brief history of these people it seems that several suc- 
ceeding bands have used this dangerous lurking place, 
and its singular convenience lay in the double entrances, 
the fact that the departing declassees could easily mingle 
with the thousand customers of the bazaar, and the passers 
by! For, every one in Petersburg uses the passage as a 
short cut. At the other end, — a crowded street, with 
three corners, and the canal, and also the Anitchikoff 


FOR HER LIFE. 


115 


Bridge, enabled ‘the faithful to easily scatter at once!’ 
A simple bell signal, from each end, gave instantly an 
absolute warning of any threatened descent or sudden 
danger! The crowd of trucks, drays, and wagons 
crowded around the Bazaar always provided a chatter- 
ing throng of peasants into which the suspects could 
plunge with only a few steps, and then, be lost forever 
to individual pursuit! 

“Hundreds of people lived then, as now, in the Bazaar, 
behind the double line of these little shops, and in the long 
galleries above, with restaurant, and theater, at the two 
street facades. Vast crowds are always moving along 
there. So, though near the very Police Headquarters, at 
any hour of the day or night, people with bundles or in 
any kind of guise were not suspected! It gave a ready 
temporary haven to this band of madmen, a rallying place, 
and a haunt for the exchange of correspondence between 
the incoming and outgoing messengers of the dark cause. 
Some deadly work in conspiracy was probably effected 
there! The greatest danger to Hermione, in her short 
stay, consisted in her marked beauty and the distinction 
of her appearance, which lifted her so far above all possi- 
ble bazaar surroundings! I am told also, that many of 
the forty thousand government employes of our capital 
knew the secret of the hidden tunnel, — and, it is also sus- 
pected that the government police telegraph wires were 
often tapped by a flexible ground wire leading in there !” 

“I don’t see how that is possible, Serge!” was my as- 
tonished rejoinder. The Captain smiled! 

“Can’t you see that a government telegraphist would 
only have to go one block to give away the details of any 
new official cipher, — or even to work the key himself for 
an hour! It is in the seduction of these trusted higher 
technical employes of the government that the spirited 
young women conspirators find an easy and agreeable 
occupation. For, lawless love always seems to go hand 
in hand, with this queer, shapeless mental unrest, the 
growing cloud of political agitation which overhangs us 
all!” 

“I have remarked,” I said dryly, “that women often. 


116 


FOR HER LIFE. 


abandon decency when they hurl thefnselves to the 
front!” 

I remained gloomily silent! For Dimitri Trepoff was 
the trusted confidant of the Grand Duke Michael. And 
was Hermione only using his chivalric nature for a pur- 
pose? Was she a snare, a lovely snare set on only to 
seduce him to his ruin? I was ready to carry my misgiv- 
ings away into the darkness of the night. For who can 
tell what a woman’s present is, what her past, her secret 
past has been, or whither she will whirl off — when once 
freed? 

“It hardly seems possible that those people secretly 
executed that toilsome work ! All the heavy excavation !” 
I was amazed at their resolution. 

Zastrow’s brow grew clouded. “Everything is possible 
to zeal and self-devotion!” he said. “Some of the earth 
may have been secretly carted away in the heavy cases 
supposed to contain English, German, and French goods! 
That plan would only need the aid of a few friendly 
teamsters! And, these people have been secretly labor- 
ing here on the Neva for twelve to fifteen years! They 
were not watched at first.” 

“Yes! It is possible, I see now,” I assented, for I re- 
membered the four months’ work under the walls of 
Libby Prison, in Richmond, Virginia, where a few cap- 
tive Union officers persevered until, with tin plates, table 
knives, and tin coffee cups, they dug the long tunnel, 
which saved fifty officers from a horrible captivity ! And, 
these people in the bazaar evidently had ample command 
of tools, untiring numbers to work and also friends with- 
out to help them! “As you say — it was easily dug before 
they were run so hard by the police ! 

“It seems, though, so strange to me, that all these vari- 
ous things can be done here without the knowledge of the 
police, — and the government agents !” This was my own 
final comment! It was a “case of conscience!” 

“True!” said Zastrow, as the General’s summons to 
piquet took him away from me. “But, these members of 
a dangerous clan have keen brains, — and a long experi- 
ence ! They have unnumbered friends among the smaller 
government officials, — and, in the varied public services! 


FOR HER LIFE. 


117 


They work, plot, and toil, with patience, skill, and aided 
by the desperate self-devotion of fanaticism! Free to 
vary their plans, they can adapt their own schemes to use 
all the friends available, and then also take advantage 
of all the spread out lines of one vast official mechanism! 
No! It is not so surprising! It only astonishes me they 
do not oftener succeed.’’ 

“You are right, Serge!” I remarked, — as I clasped his 
hand, “and I hope that we, — too, — will succeed in our 
innoceffi battle!” I was thinking of the beautiful waif 
of Fortune who had won our hearts, and — had enslaved 
Trepoff forever. 

“For her life,” he whispered, as I went out, and pre- 
pared to sally forth alone on my expedition of business 
and pleasure! 

The night wind cut me keenly, as I held my cape twist- 
ed around my neck and shoulders, and slowly worked my 
way down to the line of carriages at the Place Razvodni. 
I sought a man who could understand me! My first 
practical difficulty! I was surely a crippled Don Juan! 

A long colloquy with several sleigh drivers busied me 
before I could finally make my destination known! I 
envied the varied new arrivals their easy command of 
the Muscovite tongue, as they all drove away in triumph! 
At last, I was bundled up into a carriage, for my loudly 
vociferated cries, “Winter Garden,” had at last attracted 
a Jehu who recognized my desires! As the vehicle twist- 
ed slowly around, I saw a strangely familiar womanly 
form regarding me on the corner. 

“Who can that be?” I queried. “My circle is not so 
extensive. That person I do know. And, who would be 
out, — alone, — in this gloomy night !” I was so eager and 
excited that I soon forgot this chance rencontre, as I 
dashed away to meet the sewing woman ! On the kindly 
Durand I now depended entirely to outwit all the espion- 
age which might follow that mysterious abstraction of 
my letters, which I had not dared to promptly reveal, to 
my fellows in interest! And now I feared to tell them 
the story! 

I felt for my letters! Not only were they safe in my 
right side pocket, but the other one was tenanted by sev-. 


118 


FOR HER LIFE. 


eral unfamiliar papers and documents which seemed not 
to be my own property ! I was somewhat astonished ! I 
remembered none such. In the dim light of the stars I 
fingered all my own letters! Yes! They were all there, 
three Carefully prepared envelopes! And then I vainly 
endeavored to recognize the character of the handful 
of papers extracted from the left capacious pocket of my 
cotton-wadded, fur-lined cape cloak ! How did they come 
to be there? What was their meaning! I began to have 
a dim suspicion of trouble. 

I was uneasy! The incident was a very strange one! 
And, — with a peculiar feeling of self-protection, — I placed 
them all, with the utmost care, in the inner breast-pocket 
of my warm English reefer! 

“I will consult at once with Durand upon this whole 
mysterious affair!” I muttered, “for papers do not grow, 
even in St. Petersburg !” 

With a devil-may-care air of rakishness, — not acquired 
on the Schuylkill, I then tossed my driver a liberal fare, 
and joined the merry throng in the well lit up Winter 
Garden! I circled rakishly around the brilliantly lit ex- 
terior, — and, quietly cast furtive glances around! It was 
flattering to me, as a possible Romeo, that my manly 
graces elicited at once several merry challenges to a turn 
of a particularly seductive Strauss waltz! Reflecting 
that I was the promised property of the Durand, “for this 
night only,” — I declined the hints somewhat regretfully, 
in one or two special cases! For, chivalry here demanded 
the little supper, — and the dalliance over silver-necked 
bottles ! The flesh was willing ! Alas ! I had not the time ! 
Hence, I could not! I softly sighed, in unconscious slang, 
“Not this evening! Some other evening!” and then, to 
save future heartaches, I sought safety in Durand’s restau- 
ant! It was truly here a palace of Phryne, — this more 
than jolly Vanity Fair! My exit saved my cherished “first 
principles!” 

As I cast back one fleeting glance, — a tender one, — at 
the merry temptresses, I again saw, in the thread of the 
gay crowd, that familiar woman form I had seen on the 
Place Razvodni. It showed me a graceful stride, — a 
willowy beauty, — which, hidden in dark walking robes, 


FOR HER LIFE. 


119 


I did not recognize. And the face was veiled ! My man- 
ly heart leaped up in pride! Was I a favored one? “Can 
I have made a local conquest?” I thought of Dimitri 
Trepoff’s rapidly growing renown, and smiled in curious 
pride! “Anch’ io son pittore! There are as good men 
as he, — in the world!” I mused. 

But, I soon forgot all this flattering pursuit, as I care- 
fully locked the door where I was ushered in. I was 
conducted to where the vivacious French woman had a 
very neat little supper — all ready, in a retired room! I 
was already sly Russian enough to greet her calmly, and 
then to busy myself in getting out of my multifarious 
wraps! I waited for her own report, — and also to know 
if we were perfectly safe! The quick witted seamstress 
understood me at once. 

“We are perfectly safe here,” she smiled, “unless we 
should be very suddenly seized ! I think even then that 
only your reputation would suffer if you were found, — in 
such close quarters. For, I am still a woman!” 

I grimly smiled, “I am not half as particular about 
my moral character as I was, before I came to your be- 
loved Russia! Now, Madame,” I remarked seriously, 
“I only am anxious to save my own neck! My local 
social reputation is a matter of indifference! If hard 
things are said of me, — on the Neva, — I will return the 
compliment generally, — when I cast my eyes on the 
Schuylkill once more. So it will be what we Americans 
call a ‘stand off/ ” 

Marie Durand laughed. “You would make a very poor 
conspirator! Call me ‘Marie’ always after this! The 
‘Madame’ is too affected! But,” she became suddenly 
serious, “tell me, — is all well with you on the Admiralty 
quai?” 

I nodded, and returned to the charge, Yankee like. 

“And, with you?” She bowed her head. 

“So far all is well! Our friends have to this time 
escaped the drag nets thrown out, after the discovery of 
the deserted tunnel! But — nearly every open establish- 
ment where suspicion could attach in Petersburg has been 
visited this week. The absence of one or two of our own 
sewing girls in the Winter Palace, at work, enabled me 


120 


FOR HER LIFE. 


to count in all right, when the sejour papers were especial- 
ly examined at our shop! My occupation of ‘figure 
model’ enabled them to drape me very thoroughly, — in 
borrowed magnificence, — and so I passed as an ‘in- 
genue.’ ” 

The trim Frenchwoman twirled on her heels, with a 
dainty swing. “I have yet a bit of figure!” she coquet- 
tishly remarked. “So I am accounted for, and temporarily 
safe! But, our own watchers report to me that General 
Haxo, — Colonel Luboff, and that cavalry general who 
rides around always, now, with Huxo — have been busied 
separately or jointly, dogging after Dimitri Trepoff. It 
seems so strange ! Of course,” sighed Marie, “they know 
Major Trepoff is not a blind fool, and that he would final- 
ly find out about the secret domiciliary visit to his rooms ! 
He is too Russian at heart to have anything politically 
compromising in his rooms. As for any hunt for papers 
and suspicious documents — it would be merely ridiculous 
in his case ! The family is ‘Loyal en tout.’ As to his pri- 
vate amours, nobody cares,— moreover they are so easily 
conducted here, at first hands, that letters are absolutely 
unnecessary. Open arms await him in many places. 
Major Trepoff’s only mistake was in harboring Hermi- 
one at all in his own rooms! For we all know only a 
stranger would go to such needless trouble here to be 
the sharer of a common indiscretion. ‘Occasion waits 
only on opportunity’ here. Hence, they must feel that, 
if he has had the beautiful unknown once under his spell, 
that he must still meet her secretly, — outside the pale of 
society. Every open place of resort is at their command. 
Therefore, — they shadow his every movement to trap 
Hermione! Captain Zastrow has saved her life, — and 
perhaps saved us all, by setting the Major up as a lady- 
killer. They may be led to think she was the woman 
who fled from the Palace — this little artistic star, who is 
now the talk of the town!” Marie laughed heartily. 

We were enjoying a nice little supper in a free cam- 
paign way, and I greatly admired the cheery, resolute 
woman, who seemed to have become perfectly used to 
living under the ban! 


FOR HER LIFE. 


121 


“Then you think that we are all safe for the present?” 
I queried. 

“Yes!” Marie said thoughtfully. “Simple watchful- 
ness is your defensive armor now! Neither General 
Haxo, nor Colonel Ivan Luboff dare push themselves un- 
invited upon the society of the dignified Komaroff ladies! 
And, as to my poor friend Hermione, — nothing would 
justify any intrusion in such a household! General Zas- 
trow is a Nestor of the nobility, as well as a monument 
of unchallenged loyalty! Unless your little circle is com- 
promised by some frightful imprudence of your own — 
then, when the Komaroffs go back to Warsaw, you and 
Hermione should easily glide along out of all danger! 
Thirty-four hours only, then, will make life seem a heaven 
on earth to you! Of course, if Hermione had been un- 
happily seized in the tunnel, some of our faithful friends 
would have also shared her dark fate! But we are sworn 
to revenge them all — life for life! The law of Moses!” 
Her face was livid. 

“Now, — thank God, v cried Marie Durand, — “she has 
nothing whatever compromising about her! Simple fear 
will keep her own lips closed, and she alone would suffer, 
if arrested! The order is safe — for she would die mutely! 
Even you are safe, although you might be closely interro- 
gated. You are innocent. You have never handled 
or presented her false passport! You can simply say 
that it disappeared. As for your supposed relation, — 
mere gallantry would excuse that. Neither Trepoff, nor 
Zastrow, too, could not be proved to have forged the 
visas and police frontier endorsements, — and, — it is now 
almost impossible for any outside attack to be made on 
the Zastrow household! Only some one who has abso- 
lutely recognized Hermione would dare to denounce her! 
There is no such dangerous person here ! — She never has 
been in Petersburg! It would seem that we are impreg- 
nably fortified!” 

“And her real rank and name?” I was very eager, as I 
leaned forward. The trim French woman shrugged her 
plump and pretty shoulders! 

“Ah!” smiled Marie, “I could not tell you, even if I 
would! I only know that it is far above all reproach! It 


122 


FOR HER LIFE. 


was a self-immolation for her to have voluntarily come 
here! I imagine that the very fact of her being so far 
above all the clouds led her to be selected for the one 
great trust, this most desperate quest! If you can save 
her now,” she gravely said, “then according to our own 
unbroken rule, she is forever freed from a call to "any 
second act of personal self-devotion, or even a selection 
by lot! Now,” said Marie, cheerfully, as she trifled with 
a bit of nougat, and sipped her petit burgundy, — “as both 
of the young officers are fairly safe, and Hermione is 
now trebly guarded, — you are the only weak point of our 
chain. For, if taken up, you are powerless to understand 
the happenings around. And, as you have been either 
under Saratoff’s watchful care, — or else guarded by the 
hospitable doors of the old mansion, you should escape 
any question.” 

With a sudden inspiration, — I then drew out the mys- 
terious papers I had found in my overcoat pocket. “Lis- 
ten!” I said gravely, “a strange thing happened on my 
way here! — I had prepared four envelopes with some 
letters signed only in private marking, to be simply sent 
out by your friends to my Paris bankers ! They are mere- 
ly private business matters. I counted on you to have 
some one of your daily departing friends properly stamp 
them when over the frontier, and mail them at any town 
in Germany ! In fact, I have brought a fifty-rouble note 
to cover that bit of personal service as a jog to the mem- 
ory. Here they are!” 

And I then laid down the four letters and the fifty- 
rouble note! “I can send these out to-morrow!” brightly 
cried Marie. “The head cook of the French Ambassador 
here goes on to Paris to select the needed gastronomic 
supplies for those winter dinners, — which in Lent al- 
ways supply the place of gayer festivities! He is one of 
us, — and a devoted friend of mine, — and/’ she smiled. 
“I will answer for his fidelity with my life! He is covered 
from all personal search, — by the ‘lassez passer’ ticket, 
which is given to all high class legation servants. You 
see we use the Czar’s own authorization for our mails. 
So you need not fear for them! Is that your only dilem- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


123 


ma?” she continued, as she thrust the four letters into 
a pocket in her dress bosom. 

I fixed my eyes on her, gravely. 

“Now, that done — it brings up the first strange oc- 
currence of my whole stay at the Zastrows!” I then re- 
lated my lingering at the cab stand at Place Razvodni! 
I also described the strange way in which the loose papers 
had been found in my pocket, — and, I laid them down 
upon the table before her ! 

“As they are all in Russian,” — I observe, — “the thing 
is rather mysterious, for people do not go around and 
thrust advertisements into a man’s pockets at night!” 

I ceased abruptly, — for Marie Durand was transfixed! 
She was gazing at the half-dozen flimsy papers with a 
look of speechless horror! Her fingers trembled as she 
ran them over ! Ah ! My forebodings ! It meant trouble ! 
“Quickly examine all your clothes and other pockets,— 
while I am away,” she whispered. “See that you have 
nothing else on your person that does not belong to 
you.” She slipped silently out of a little side door, and in 
a few moments returned with a glowing face! 

“They are all now crackling in the great kitchen fire!” 
She sank back helpless into a chair. 

“What does it mean?” I cried. 

“It is astounding!” she gasped. “I hardly know what 
to do! For even here, we might be seized if the doors 
were quickly burst in. We may be trapped here. Let 
me think!” She was quivering in an agony of unmis- 
takable fear, and still I was in the dark. 

“They were — ” I began. “Enough to bring you before 
a summary court martial, if arrested, with them on your 
person ! And, the trick, — clumsy as it may seem, — would 
indicate that you are to be followed, and arrested to-night ! 
There is treachery somewhere, around us! It was in- 
tended they should be surely found upon you, — and, — 
why you have not been molested yet I know not ! Let me 
think! Let me think! Did they hope to find Plermione 
with you?” 

I paced the room wistfully eyeing each flimsy door in 
the momentary expectation of seeing a dozen fierce police 
agents rush in. Ah ! How I longed, then, for the “sweet 


124 


FOR HER LIFE. 


security of the familiar paths by the Schuylkill! I was 
“fatigued with Empire” — the great Russian Empire. 

“1 have it,” Marie Durand slowly faltered, controlling a 
growing agitation. “You now are clearly suspected! You 
have been surely followed here. It was thought that you 
would meet some one of importance to apprehend. To 
incriminate that unknown person, and also yourself, this 
vile trick has been attempted in order to bring you fairly 
before the police, in a most questionable manner! It 
would certainly demand all the efforts of the American 
Legation, — and all your loyal friends to explain this, — to 
free you, — and to convince the higher local authorities of 
your absolute inutility to the reactionary people of any 
continental land! Your ignorance of the local topog- 
raphy and the continental languages would make it only 
a madness to use a man like you as a secret agent. But, 
it would be a matter of vexatious delay, and, perhaps lead 
to Hermione’s capture.” 

“See here! Marie!” I cried, — with the return of one 
last flickering hope, “can it not be that Haxo and Luboff 
only hope to detain me here in order to gain time to push 
an acquaintance with the beauty who poses here as my 
sister? It might bring her, then, helpless within the reach 
of their own low arts! They may judge all women by the 
easy-going sirens who prey on military circles every- 
where! There is no limit to the vanity of the pampered 
military beaux of Europe.” 

“No!” she answered. “In that case, they would try 
and at once implicate her, — try to betray her and so get 
her over to the lonely fortress, or into the terrible secret 
rooms of the Vassili-Ostrov! There she would be help- 
less under their vile arts, — like many more poor victims 
have been, — like many, — too many, — alas, will be! No! 
This was done only to quickly drag you, and the woman 
found to-night with you— before the nearest correctional 
tribunal! The first thing, of course, would be an ex- 
haustive search, — and — thus, they hoped to be able to 
fathom the story of all your past in St. Petersburg, or 
ruin your future, being taught from these documents and 
the papers found on you! Or, they may have hoped to 
implicate you further by finding you with some sus- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


125 


picious reactionary woman! For,” she smiled, with a 
truly French insinuation, "no sane man would be sup- 
posed to come here only to meet another man! This is 
the very bower of Venus! Chilled, perhaps, but very 
much alive ! Only a ‘woman appointment’ would be your 
justification in venturing here alone, — even though a 
curious stranger!” 

“What remains for us to do? Tell me the first steps!” 
I most anxiously demanded. “For I shall not go out of 
the mansion again save in one of the family equipages, 
— or under the sure social escort of some member of the 
family! I have lost my nerve!” 

“That is a prudent decision!” Marie mused. “And, 
you have really seen nothing? You have not been follow- 
ed? Or, interfered with at all — so far?” She gazed steadily 
into my eyes. I dared not then tell her all my fears, — of 
passing the sly governess — of the Lubow colloquy, — of my 
lost private letters! For, I was most deeply concerned 
now to have my four envelopes sent safely on to Paris! 
Their contents veiled in the semi-safety of their careful 
preparation would effect all my purposes in writing. 
When she was satisfied with her scrutiny, Marie Durand 
was ready with her present orders. 

“Now! You and I must be careful to leave this garden 
separately! You had better go out first. I, then, will 
wait, and leave by the open entrance, — on foot! You can 
take the first sleigh or carriage ! — I will see that a trusty 
waiter escorts you out, and, gets you a reliable driver! 
But, first go out and circulate alone around the garden 
a little ! Linger here and there with the women dancers ! 
They all speak French! Be on your guard about robbery 
— and, quietly observe if you are followed! Note any 
particular person who seems to turn up from time to 
time mysteriously ! I will hide myself, while you are out, 
in another room here, — a dark servants’ room! Come 
back into the open wine room, when you are tired, — and, 
I will have my own waiter on watch there. Follow him 
quietly out, and he will bring you at once to me! You 
are safe with any of those dancing women ! They all are 
registered people, and they value their heads and their 
harvest making here entirely too much to ‘play at poli- 


126 


FOR HER LIFE. 


tics.’ ” In five minutes I was apparently only a gay loiterer 
in the giddy throng of pleasure seekers. But, my proud 
heart failed me. My wraps and outer coverings were all 
in charge of the waiter, whose secret charge I had be- 
come. “They can not stuff my pockets!” I exulted. I 
thrust my hands in them a 1’ Anglais. A first tour of the 
hall showed me nothing, and I returned, slowly, to a 
table near the open entrance of the wine hall. Beauty 
had lost its charms! I wooed Bacchus. Dallying over 
a glass of vermouth, I gazed keenly upon the shifting, 
passing groups. A few kaleidoscopic twists of the danc- 
ing throng showed me there, near me, again, the hover- 
ing, veiled woman, whose sudden rencontre at the Place 
Razvodni had excited my suspicions. “I am followed! 
By Jove! I’ll make sure!” I decided in desperation. 
Sauntering through the crowd, a dozen turns convinced 
me of the truth of my fears, and, also, that the hover- 
ing woman was young, was thickly veiled, and was very 
graceful of carriage. This was all I could discern, for 
when I doubled and twisted on my track, and sought 
by apparent hazard to quickly approach her, she smartly 
eluded me, and, yet, from a distance was ever lingering 
there in the radius of my vision. Alone, in the city which 
was now full of all possible terrors to me, I was at last 
convinced that I must run the official gauntlet. I be- 
came totally desperate in my sudden panic. “I will get 
back at once to the Zastrow mansion, and, then, by 
heavens, I will not leave it again!” This was my firm 
decision. I had already satisfied myself that Marie Dur- 
and had burned the important note I had safely delivered 
to her from “my sister” Hermione. “Let the blow fall now 
when it may, I will be found under the protection of the 
laws of hospitality. There will be others to watch over me 
when I go out again.” My social ardor had visibly 
cooled, and I gave up the vain hopes of shining as a 
Petersburg Don Juan. My Romeo smile had vanished. 
When I was covered by the break up of a wild dance 
measure, I bolted hastilv into the booth of Durand, and 
then seated myself back in the farthest angle, out of 
sight, but where I could have the range of the door. I 
was chilled in my blood with the long waiting, the vm- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


127 

usually late hours, and my new nervous fear, and visibly 
I astonished the waiter by the draught of cognac I swal- 
lowed before he led me to Marie Durand’s haunt. It was 
a square American “horn.” She awaited me there with a 
breathless concern. “You may as well take it easily,” she 
said, after a few moments spent in brooding over my 
news. This pursuer is some one evidently who knows 
you well, and has also been set on to watch you. It is 
no trifle. No love fancy. So you can only drive to your 
home without concealment. It is the best course. Go 
out openly in innocence,” she smiled. “Only in the future 
remain hidden under that roof’s friendly shelter. I can 
always easily communicate with Trepoff and Zastrow, 
and I will also have one of our women, a sister of the new 
faith, bear my daily communications to Hermione. 
Under the pretense of a little necessity of the dressmaking 
art, that will be a complete covered way. Ladies are al- 
ways — like modern cruisers, in the need of ‘repairs.’ ” 

“Can I do anything for you, Marie?” I queried, as I felt 
a strongly growing desire to be at once on my way to the 
shelter of the Zastrow home. “Nothing!” said the anx- 
ious woman. “I shall see you very soon, for I will visit 
Hermione on our own secret matter in my trade capacity. 
And, as you are her brother, when I come to her rooms, 
you can easily enter there, and, I can then inform you 
of the safe delivery of your Paris letters. So, you will 
not need to compromise yourself by future visits to me,” 
she laughed. 

It occurred to me then that I had not mentioned the 
coming opera party. Marie Durand quickly sprang up 
when I told her and pressed her hands upon her heaving 
bosom. “There is the one unavoidable danger I have 
feared. It would never, never do to absolutely refuse 
Madame Komaroff. Hermione has exhausted the ‘sud- 
den illness’ pretext. It will not do to maintain that weak 
subterfuge. Nature will not lie! All Petersburg, too, 
will be there. A gala night. And if any one is on the 
Neva who knows her it will be a frightful risk to run. 
But, by seating herself with care, and being socially 
shadowed by the high rank of the Komaroffs, with some 
little toilet mystifications in which I can help, she can 


128 


FOR HER LIFE. 


perhaps be safer there than alone at the mansion. For, 
such men as General Haxo and Colonel Luboff dare 
not visit in the opera boxes as a social custom. Their 
trade is too unpopular. They are shunned.” 

“Why so?” I innocently asked. “Because,” she replied 
dryly, “their presence suggests a too close friendship 
with the police. There are crowds of society women 
spies here in government pay. So, you see, the gold lace 
on a policeman general does not hide the cold facts that 
he is feared and shunned. That still after all his rank he 
is everywhere an unwelcome guest. 

“And, also, a menace to any hope of free social enjoy- 
ment. I despise these bulldogs !” she hissed. She rose, 
then, quietly and quickly bade me “God speed” on my 
homeward way. “Do not forget all my injunctions. 
Should you be questioned or arrested, simply say nothing. 
Fear nothing. You, as a foreigner, would only be taken 
to a detention station, where all the superior officers 
speak French, and, your visiting card, with a bold de- 
mand for your own ambassador, will soon bring your 
friends to you. In all that may happen, simply say 
nothing. Avoid in future all strangers, all mixed crowds, 
and all chance conveyances. Also, all strange goddesses! 
You must not leave the Zastrow house on foot or alone 
again.” 

“And you?” I asked, with a real concern for the poor, 
brave woman. “I shall leave to-night on foot by the 
great entrance which is used by the commoner orders. 
When a safe distance away I will then take two different 
sleighs to reach by stages my own chosen shelter. For 
we wanderers have always one or two ready places where 
we avail ourselves of private passages through the 
squares. Trust to me for the safe delivery of your let- 
ters. They are absolutely safe. And, as you have been 
followed here from General Zastrow’s, watch all the 
dwellers in that house. Some one of the house servants 
may have yielded to Luboff’s ready bribes. And the 
very one you trust the most be spying upon you all. 
Nothing is safe here, in this hateful Petersburg.” Her 
voice had a mournful ring, as I saw her vanish, and I 
silently grasped my cloak, following the waiter out to 


FOR HER LIFE. 


129 


the grand entrance, where the sleighs and carriages were 
being filled with the departing. As I hastily slipped a 
ten rouble note into the man’s hand I glanced around 
as my driver tried to struggle out of the tangle of the de- 
parting teams. A sudden chill shook my nerves as, near 
to me in the score of people then pressing out of the gar- 
den, I saw again that agile woman shadowing me, still 
heavily veiled and wrapped in a dark shuba. A few quick 
whispered directions to the waiter who was bowing his 
thanks gave my driver the unusual orders to go all around 
the Winter Garden, and to take me homeward on the 
smaller darkest streets. “I may thus throw her off the 
track!” I defiantly thought. 

And so, I strained my eyes to watch as we swept 
around three sides of the great palace of pleasure. A 
surprise awaited me which took away my last vestige of 
hope. 

For, in a crowd of a half dozen burly police agents, 
with a fringe of loungers and servants looking timidly on, 
in the full glare of the lamps of the private entrance, I saw 
my own careful guardian of this unhappy evening — poor 
Marie Durand — her face pale and with frightened eyes, 
being pushed roughly into a waiting covered carriage. 
There was an ominous silence as the passers by paused, 
dumb in astonishment, at such a public seizure. As I 
swept by I could see that they all scattered in evident fear 
at the descent of the police upon the lonely woman. The 
lightning might strike again! 

The cold, cruel stars gleamed unpityingly down on me, 
as I was whirled away toward the house where my sleep 
was now shadowed by the most horrible dreams forebod- 
ing the unknown terrors of the future. I had lost the 
American habit of peaceful slumber, and I longed for 
Philadelphia’s nepenthe of burgherlike ease. I longed 
for the Quaker city. It was half-past eleven when I swept 
down along the lonely Admiralty Quai. I made one 
'Russian driver’s heart madly rejoice as I hastily handed 
him the first bill I could reach in my purse. And when 
the welcome door clanged upon me I gazed at the sur- 
prised butler with a vaguely frightened air as he aided me 
to remove my wraps. “My God! I remember now! She 

9 


130 


x^OR HER LIFE. 


had my letters with her !” I groaned, in a positive fright, 
and I grimly remembered the particularities of the usual 
police search which the poor woman had so graphically 
described. And she was now on the rack. The sound of 
laughing voices came ringing out merrily from the great 
salons all still lit up as I sought my rooms for a few mo- 
ments rest to compose myself. I dared not enter the 
drawing rooms in my agitation, and yet, with the news 
of the seizure of the one faithful ally to whom we all 
owed so much I must act at once. What could I do? I 
was puzzled. 

“Serge must know this immediately. And Hermione 
must also be promptly warned at once — to-night. ,J I 
walked my rooms in a maze of doubt. I was timorous, 
even there, in my rooms. I knew the Russian custom of 
stealing from the night what the dark days always robbed 
us of, would detain the guests for some time below. A 
supper at twelve was a daily feature of the hospitable 
house wherein feasting never seemed to end. The chief 
end of the old Russian is much eating and drinking. 

“I will not risk going to Hermione’s rooms. I will call 
her aside, and if she can then steal away for a few mo- 
ments I can warn her, so that we may all be on our 
guard,” so I mused. I had quickly rearranged my toilet, 
and, opening the door quietly, I stepped down the dimly 
lighted hall. As I descended the grand stairway I passed 
a swiftly gliding figure. I had hardly the time to recog- 
nize Mademoiselle Dauvray, who entered her own rooms 
next to the apartments of the pretty charge. The snap of 
a lock resounded on my ears. Rather a late visit to a 
jeweler; or a tryst of love! Zastrow’s much desired rival! 
Had he materialized? I hoped so. 

Her dark dress and hasty disappearance proved to me 
that she had not presided at the piano in the evening as 
usual. 

“I wonder if an external intrigue has really supplanted 
the vain worship of the dashing captain, Serge Zastrow?” 
was my last query, as I entered the grand salon, with the 
air of a returning reveler. My lightness of manner 
bordered on the hysterical, and, moreover, I was not re- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


131 


assured when, leaving the lively circle, Serge Zastrow 
drew me into a corner. 

“Look here, Grahame !” he whispered, “I hope that you 
are not foolish enough to flirt with that good-looking 
French devil, Felise. She would be a very dangerous 
acquaintance for a man of your staid habits. She is a 
little too rapid, even for such a devil of a fellow as you.” 

“What do you mean?” I muttered, as I had caught 
Hermione’s eye, and tried to arouse her attention to my 
desire to speak with her alone. The sister of my Russian 
adoption had risen and approached smiling. 

“Why, she has been out all the evening, and only re- 
turned a few moments after you went upstairs.” I was 
dumb with a new fear, for now 1 knew that Colonel Lu- 
bow’s friend was a spy, and my secret foe. 


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BOOK II —IN THE BEAR’S DEN. 


CHAPTER VI. 

DIGGING THE MINE— A TARTAR’S TRICKS! 

Hermione read the message of my eyes. An important 
report. 

We all said “Good-night” with concealed eagerness. 
Serge and the pretty little Countess Komarofif were at 
the piano. “Ca marchait toujours!” 

Her mother, the hostess, General Zastrow, and Trepofl: 
had made a gay party at ecarte, and a happier circle did 
not exist in all Russia. 

Laughing raillery pursued us as to my flirtations. I 
was glad enough to escape this merry mockery. For 
every nerve thrilled now with fear. The cloud would 
burst soon. 

Once in our rooms I told my story with heavy heart. 

The letters to my real sister and my clients would 
surely betray me. And our faithful ally, Marie Durand, 
was now under the bear’s paw. I found how flimsy our 
paper precautions were under the grip of the police. 

Hermione was speechless. This last blow was too 
much. I asked if anything unusual had occurred at the 
mansion. 

“Nothing, only Mademoiselle Dauvray was out a long 
while, an unusually long while, for an unprotected young 
lady.” Then she had tracked me. My presence at the 
Garden was reported to her by the police. That was 
the trick — the foul snare. She had evidently driven there 
direct, watched me, and then ordered the arrest of the 
woman. But, for what purpose — and why? I had never 
wronged her. I was not a lost lover. 

Such was my belief. The desire to complicate me, and 
to arrest my messenger could only come from a closely 


134 


FOR HER LIFE. 


interested observer, backed by a higher power. Some 
one lurked behind her. Luboff or Haxo? Which 
devil was at work? 

A tap at the door. We started like guilty thieves. All 
our nerves were beginning to be shaky in the extreme. 
The maid entered with a tea service. Hermione looked 
up languidly. In gracefully taking the cups and pouring 
out the national beverage, the beauty started, as a little 
paper fell fluttering to the floor. I grasped it eagerly, 
and crushed it in my hand, and turned to speak. 

But the girl was gone already. More mystery. What 
was this? A new trap? No; it was a friendly message. 
For Hermione looked at it with a sigh of relief and then 
handed it to me. I was still in the dark, for the little 
scrap of paper showed to me only some figures in an ap- 
parent confusion. The Secret Order. “Our friends can 
reach us, you see, even here,” said my companion, smil- 
ing. Evidently, Durand had a faithful confederate in the 
Zastrow household — among the servants. They were, 
perhaps, aiding us secretly and watching then the sneak- 
ing spy, the French governess. I remembered Durand’s 
story of how the doomed paid back their debts of hatred, 
and demanded life for life. So, the Dauvray played in 
dangers herself unknown. “Listen,” said Hermione, 
with evident agitation. “Durand was arrested on the flim- 
siest pretext as being a ‘wandering character.’ They took 
her to a private detention station. She was sternly ques- 
tioned, then searched, all papers taken from her, and 
then she was simply told to report in the morning. A 
kind of guarded parole. If no improper matter was 
found, if her papers are innocent in their nature, she will 
be able to reclaim them very easily. She will report to 
us secretly further to-morrow, and bids us not to seek to 
aid her — above all to keep quiet and not approach her. 

“Trepoff must not try to see her personally. For the 
two linked once together our whole secret would gradu- 
ally unravel itself.” 

“Will she get in serious trouble?” said I, with some 
concern. “Did they discover her real name and status?” 
I was filled with terrors of my own now. 

“No,” replied Hermione, “Durand is not her supposed 


FOR HER LIFE. 


135 


name (as you might well know). She has regular papers 
now, and a room, with this perfectly natural occupation as 
modiste and seamstress stated on those useful fresh docu- 
ments. They will shadow her perhaps still to catch us. 
There is a long arm, a keen brain, a cruel heart, some- 
where behind all these attempts on our party.” 

“She never keeps any documents in her room, or on 
her person. I mean the — the — secret ones,” concluded 
Hermione. A very wise precaution it seemed to me, for it 
would only be carrying around a portable “sudden 
death.” I thought only of myself. 

“And my lost letters.” As they were not stamped the 
police can’t hold her for stealing them or defrauding the 
mail. This was my own burning question and I dared 
not confess my rashness. 

“And will they return the letters and papers she may 
have had on her person?” I asked, with a quaking heart. 
Hermione looked surprised. “Certainly they will, after 
copying them,” rejoined my companion, very coolly. 
“The police always copy anything they choose to open. 
It is a public right here.” 

We separated gloomily. I to toss on my pillow and to 
feel that I would be, at least, detected in a shameless 
social imposture. And that, after all, much slyness and 
useless heroism might go to the wall at last. 

Hermione’s only chance of safety was in her entire 
passivity in all future secret society matters. She had 
frankly avowed that all her work was done and a safe de- 
parture her only aim. I fell asleep dreaming that J 
wandered, heavily laden and weary, on a lonely, wintry 
road, seeking the welcome guide post marked “The Way 
Out.” While quiet reigned over the old ancestral man- 
sion, and all weary cares were forgotten in sleep, in a 
great room at the Prefecture of Police, a stern-faced man 
sat carefully looking over copies of the intercepted letters 
which poor Durand’s bosom had yielded up to the rough 
hand of a peasant woman attendant. My secrets! 

Calmly enjoying his cigar, he made a note or two, and 
gazed, now and then, at Colonel Ivan Luboff, the grim 
sub-chief, who sat moody and silent, eyeing his superior. 
He would have roughly made a brutal finish of the job 


136 


FOR HER LIFE. 


long before. For he had discerned much of the truth. 
The Bureau was but a few squares from the Admiralty 
Quai, where the netted birds slumbered. This spider’s 
den was plainly furnished, but with all modern Russian 
conveniences. A telegraph operator sat there ready to 
touch the magic button at a single nod from the chief. 

On the long table, among great piles of other seized 
papers, lay the original of the copied letters, with a re- 
port of the arresting officer, and a few notes from the 
governor’s spy. For, Felise Dauvray’s trail ended here 
where gold was to be had easily and revenge thrown in, 
gratis. 

On the other side of the desk, a bearded secretary 
waited to note the coming orders of the chief. For it 
was the redoubtable General Haxo himself who read the 
lines with unmoved features. Luboff, summoned special- 
ly from his club, intently watched his silent superior. 
His own tenure of a comfortable billet and high rank was 
the favor of this heavy-jawed, gray-eyed Sphinx, who de- 
voured the lines in a cool, professional consideration. 

The ticking of the office clock, and the movement of 
some one of the dozen or more inspectors in the ante- 
room was the only sound. 

Haxo, plainly dressed in dark clothes, was booted and 
spurred. A belt and heavy cavalry saber lay with his 
cap and cloak near. A half-open drawer at his elbow 
showed also a couple of grim-looking revolvers handy 
to the grasp. Some very strange little tableaux had 
called for the use of these ‘'implements” in the dark past. 

Evidently not to be caught napping was the alert Gen- 
eral Haxo. “Write,” said he, in a sharp, steady voice. 
He ordered as follows: “In the case of the woman ar- 
rested at the Winter Garden to-night: 

“These letters will be returned. 

“The woman to be allowed to depart. 

“She is not to be further molested or frightened. 

“Let her rooms, however, be carefully watched. No 
blunders. Find out her associates. 

“Further report to me in person. No overt acts until 
my own order.” 


FOR HER LIFE. 


137 


Tossing the letters to the secretary, the chief said then 
to his underlings, “Leave us.” 

The secretary and operator withdrew to the ante-room. 
Silence reigned. “Colonel Luboff,” began the general, 
as he comfortably lit a cigar, and mused for a moment. 
The fate of several human beings was in the balance. 

The officer sprang to his feet as if electrified. The 
vulture was ready to swoop down now. 

“Sit down and make notes. There will be no further 
papers filed in this case. Report yourself detached. 
Telegraph to the Civil Police Bureau to that effect. You 
will act only under my private orders.” (He paused in 
thought.) 

“Send all these telegrams. Go to the frontier when 
you get replies from Paris. Report to me then by tele- 
graph here the arrival of the coming lady at Eydkunen. 
Come on the train with her. Telegraph me from Wilna. 
You will find orders awaiting you at the station when 
you return here. 

“Let the lady be treated with every courtesy. She is 
of the highest social respectability. Do not forget that a 
moment,” he leered viciously. 

“Make her acquaintance. Read over these copies and 
reports. 

“Don’t give her any hint of previous meeting with her 
brother. “Send in full from Wilna her general conversa- 
tion and all new facts.” 

The chief paused. Luboff had finished all his official 
notes. Haxo passed him the papers. “Is that all?” 
asked the Colonel. “Yes, you can go now, but leave all 
these, when you are done your work, with my private 
secretary. Send the dispatches at once. I think I have 
covered the whole ground,” he said. “Direct all the an- 
swers to be duplicated to me here, immediately. You 
have the Privy Council authority in this matter. Order 
all letters to these people or from them to be copied and 
the copies sent to me here. Let the originals be delivered 
as addressed, with no special delay. I want them to fancy 
they correspond freely,” he smiled. “The whole family. 
Have you understood fully all my orders?” concluded 
the military policeman. 


138 


FOR HER LIFE. 


The Colonel saluted and bowed his affirmative. 

“Remember, now, act with the utmost caution. This 
affair is for me alone,” and the voice rang like steel in its 
frosty coldness. But, a warm glow stole over his heart, 
for he fancied he could see a pair of eyes pleading to him, 
beyond the tide. 

“Report yourself on your departure here,” was the last 
injunction, as the General rose, threw his cloak on, 
buckled on his saber, and took his cap. A cruel smile 
wreathed his lips. For she, the beautiful unknown, was 
drifting into his nets — and then — then— a rosy flush 
tinged his cheeks. 

Selecting a fresh cigar, he rang his bell sharply. The 
secretary appeared. Haxo spoke in a reverie of coming 
triumphs, for a sweet surrender might soften certain of- 
ficial severities. “Remain till Colonel Luboff has fin- 
ished. Call on the operator.” The chief nodded careless- 
ly to Luboff and stalked out. 

Robust in form, sinewy and alert, in the vigor of middle 
age, with a soldierly bearing, the General was a type of 
official energy and decision. But, it was the voluptuary 
whose heart bounded now in the certainty of a final tri- 
umph. ITis plans were neatly laid. His cropped hair, 
thin, wiry moustache, and impassive face, spoke of the 
trained soldier. The cruel lips and cold, steady eye be- 
longed to the relentless Tartar. “Wait till she is under 
my hand,” he mused. “She shall learn how to plead — 
to plead to me.” 

Colonel Luboff called for the official cipher books. “I 
wonder what Haxo’s real game is in this. He is going 
out of his way. Is the game worth the candle?” and the 
huge Colonel sighed. 

The secretary produced the volumes from the safe and 
stood ready to work his master’s will. 

“Give me France,” said he with business like alacrity, 
and wrote off a form. “Ivanhoff,” he commanded (glanc- 
ing toward the telegraph). The operator glided to his 
side. 

“At once!” was the order. “Are the wires all open?” 
“Yes, your excellency.” This man coldly played every 
day with the life and death of others. His own fate was 


FOR HER LIFE. 


139 


yet unshadowed. “Check back the delivery of each mes- 
sage,” said the sub-chief to the secretary. “Send a special 

report to me at ,” and he whispered an address. 

The young clerk smiled knowingly. For Colonel Luboff 
had all a soldier’s easy vices. He had a retreat of his 
own where his chief could not reach easily all his private 
life. So, they all played at catch-as-catch-can — only in 
varying hidden bowers, avoiding each other tacitly. No 
sound was heard save the clicking of the key as Ivanhoff 
bent over his instrument. His thin, bony fingers struck 
down like the fang of a cobra. Misery, death, heartbreak, 
ruin, were distilled daily from the octopus arms of the 
harmless looking wire. Shame and dishonor, a tyrant’s 
hate and a despot’s curse could be spread five thousand 
miles abroad by this pallid-faced man, w r ho was now sow- 
ing dragons’ teeth for Alexander Romanoff. The magic 
wire which talks was under his impressive sway. An ex- 
ecutioner by electricity — a pioneer. The scratching of 
Luboff’s pen kept time to the fatal music of the clicking 
key. Through the lonely room the ticking of the office 
clock added its dismal lefrain, like the hollow tapping of 
coffin nails. It was like the drip, drip, drip of the rain 
from the eaves in a silent room where one watches the 
dead. 

“One more! one more! one more!” it monotonously 
droned in the hush of the night. The very echoes of the 
room spoke of past agonies, and were prophetic of untold 
miseries lurking in the womb of Time. 

The hangman may have a grim pride in his ghastly 
effectiveness; thief and burglar may recount with some 
little personal bravado their exploits; but even a Draco 
could hardly wish to submit for a world’s candid opinion, 
the secret workings of that terrible “Inner Bureau” — a 
modern Golgotha. The stern grasp of the mailed hand in 
return for the lurking touches of the desperate conspir- 
ators. 

And so, Luboff’s brow was grave, as he concluded his 
own safety depended upon an exact compliance with the 
wishes of his chief. This cowardly web of lies might 
break one woman’s heart, send another shrieking to the 
scaffold, and even involve helpless unresisting Innocence, 


140 


FOR HER LIFE. 


tried and venerable loyalty, in an abyss of shame and dis- 
grace. But, Luboff had no choice but to go forward on 
the dark path laid out for him. 

Still it was “secundum artem.” — their daily trade — and, 
yet this particular deal of the game seemed a bit cruel, 
even to an expert. For the official gamester played with 
marked cards. A vile deed! 

The long arm of the Czar reaches out over the world. 
The laws of Russia are just. Under the guidance of his 
“bureaucracy” and hirelings, the fingers of royalty may 
unwittingly take on the stain of the cutthroat and pick- 
pocket. For, brutes in power will always twist severe 
codes to work out their own villainy. 

For all these enormities, which the unpitying stars 
alone witness, concocted in fraud, executed with coward- 
ly, murderous craft, are done in all lands, by the ma- 
chinery of the law in the name of the state. The “lettre 
de cachet,” the “arbitrary arrest,” the Black Hole, the 
Bastille, the Piombi, the crypts of the Castle San Angelo, 
Bombay’s dark dungeons, in all these the law turned the 
key on helpless humanity. This open disgrace rests on 
the detested “tchinovik” and police spy in Russia. Other 
lands have their own black records to face — the same 
stain. The indelible blood of innocence dyes the imperial 
ermine in the pages of history since first it became the 
uniform of autocracy. The shame lies far deeper than 
the work of the murderer’s red hand. Behind the brute, 
in all the world’s dark pages, see the tyrant sitting 
screened aloft. But, to business, the American cipher, 
the Russian interior code and the German signals followed 
in quick succession. For, General Haxo’s orders must 
be obeyed. The net must be cast out. The steps all fol- 
lowed in a logical sequence of deviltry, and so the Colonel 
and his man toiled to make the way smooth for a new 
victim for Haxo. Here is Luboff’s embodiment of the 
dark chief’s brief mandates, and it seemed to “cover the 
case,” as Luboff grimly smiled as the operator read off 
his official retained copies: 


FOR HER LIFE. 


141 


No. i. (Open Dispatch.) 

Miss Madeleine Grahame, 

Care Drexel, Harjes & Co., 

Bankers, Paris : 

Come on here at once, your brother seriously ill at my 
house. Will meet you at station. Answer. 

General Michael Zastrow, 

Admiralty Quai, 

St. Petersburg. 

No. 2. 

Madame Justine Zastrow, 

“Mon Plaisir;” 

Via Kief: 

Your sister arrives in a few days. Join us here. Will 
meet you at Tsarskoe Zeloe station. Telegraph your de- 
parture. Most important family business. Plans 
changed. Answer. 

Walter Grahame, 
Zastrow House, 
Admiralty Quai. 

No. 3. 

(Cipher.) 


Count Baranoff, Russian Embassy, 

Berlin: 

Order Dimitri, the Greek, to repeat to “Luboff — 
Eydtkunen” by telegraph for orders at Berlin. Acknowl- 
edge. Tolstoi, 

By Haxo. 


No. 4. 


(Cipher. Cable.) 

Barthelemy, 

Russian Legation, 

Washington: 

Cable full particulars Madeleine Grahame, also Walter 
Grahame. Description. Passport Office, State De- 


142 


FOR HER LIFE. 


partment. Two passports issued together two years ago. 
Caution. Immediate. Acknowledge. 

De Giers, 

By Haxo. 


No. 5. 


Secret Bureau, 

Ministry Interior, 

Correspondence Revision. Petersburg: 

Send copies all correspondence family Zastrows, Cron- 
stadt, Petersburg, Kief, also Walter Grahame, Madeleine 
Grahame, Petersburg and Paris. Forward all letters; no 
delay. File copies, secretary. Tolstoi, 

Countersigned for Police Bureau, By Haxo. 

Ivan Luboff. 


It was long past the hour of midnight. Luboff’s pre- 
paratory work was done, and the words of fell import 
were ticking off on the key, in harmless sounding clicks. 
Sitting moodily, he watched the flying fingers of the oper- 
ator. Perhaps coming shadows touched him, for it was 
the hour when nerves weaken. 

He touched a bell, an attendant appeared. He growled 
an order, and strode up and down gazing at the framed 
pictures of the Czar and Czarina. 

In a few moments the man returned with a service. 
The tall colonel seized a flask of vodki and drained a 
huge dram. A cigar constituted his second course, as he 
watched the conclusion of the message transmission. 
The special work had quickly claimed its due precedence. 

Every wire in Russia laid over its business for the 
“Police Bureau; only mobilization of the army ever took 
precedence of this dreaded office, and, even that, was de- 
layed where the remotest affairs of the “imperial family” 
was directly concerned. And, all this Haxo conjuration 
was classed as “In the public interest, safety and security.” 
Mere useful tidings could wait their time. Not daring to 
question his chief, it required no unusual experience for 
Luboff to read the whole story of this growing intrigue. 

Something was decidedly wrong with “Miss Madeleine 
Grahame’s status,” or else the implacable General Haxo 
had “marked her down” in his own interest. The grim 


FOR HER LIFE. 


143 


colonel’s brow was clouded. He had been touched and 
fascinated by her many graces. It was only a directly 
ominous hint from General Haxo which kept him away 
from the Zastrow mansion. 

He received carelessly and unmoved the final report 
“finished” from Ivanoff, and then delivering the copies 
and telegram sheets to the secretary, he returned the 
cipher books. They were at once locked in the huge steel 
vaults of the private office. Ivan Luboff grasped cloak, 
cap and sword, as he drew a heavy sigh of relief, and 
ordered especial care as to instantly sending all the an- 
swers and reports to him. He then strode off without a 
parting word to the subordinates. His work was done. 
They could toil yet, into the wee sma’ hours, creeping up- 
ward in a dangerous promotion. They finished their 
own midnight repast and soon the ticking of the clock 
and tramp of the weary sentinel’s feet alone, woke the 
echoes of that Chamber of Horrors. All this villainy was 
executed “in the name of the law.” Morning dawned on 
the great wintry city of Peter. The pale yellow borean 
sun struggled feebly through the mists and lit up the 
burnished copper domes and gaudy blue and gold pin- 
nacles of the hundred vacant temples. It glittered feebly 
on the soft crushed snow and touched here and there with 
its kindling flash the floating ice floes whirling now down 
the dark Neva. It would be a full month yet before the 
grip of the Winter King would choke that noble stream, 
and a strange new creation the queer “winter city” of 
wooden booths, with gaslight and streets, be laid out on 
the solid crystal floor. A carnival of tribal bazaar ex- 
changes. A rude season of boorish merrymaking and 
wild license. 

Then whole tribes of interior peasantry and indigenes 
would merrily traffic in furs, curios, and all their rude 
treasures, their spoils of the season’s chase. Little shows, 
drinking booths and dance houses would afford amuse- 
ment for the later night hours. A mad saturnalia oi 
hardy lovers there, mingling to worship the god “Vodki.” 
The whole working population of the capital mingles 
here in a barbaric “fair of all nations” — an unequaled 
character school — on the broad bosom of the Neva from 


144 


FOR HER LIFE. 


December to April 1st, yearly. The wildest members of 
fifty tribes meet in a mad license. A mob city is this. 

Kurds, Laplanders, Asiatics, fierce Circassians, and 
trading Greeks, weird Armenians, subtle Persians, grave 
Turks, with criminals and desperate refugees of every 
class, swarm in this temporary town. The heavy armed 
police patrols simply confine the mad mob to their icy 
limits. The strong patrols of Cossacks watch all day, 
but when forced to serve at night they huddle, mounted 
on their hardy ponies, in groups of four, at the corners of 
the squares, left open on the ice for observation. 

Revolver and saber on thigh, their lance points glitter 
with an ominous twinkle under the starlight. And they 
leave the local rule of the ice bazaars to the peasantry. 

Only when a row over a gypsy girl’s all too ready 
smiles, or some bitter race quarrel makes an unusual out- 
cry do they swoop fiercely down and indiscriminately cow 
the crowds of despised foot travelers into a sudden sub- 
mission. They do this with liberal use of their sharp 
lance points or careless blows with the flat of their sabers. 
There is a ready graveyard at every fissure in the ice, and 
a friendly undercurrent. 

Already in the great Winter Palace, the basements, 
nooks, crypts and innumerable lower rooms were filled 
with the furtive men and women “hangers on,” a queer 
winter surreptitious colony. They mingle with the ser- 
vants and soldiers on guard, and either hide away snugly 
to sleep or else plot in security all winter, under the very 
heels of the Emperor. Strange, uninvited guests, driven 
in by poverty and misery to lurk around the kitchens of 
a Caesar. 

For prudential reasons, Durand had reported to the 
“dyornik” of her apartment house, where still she had her 
own den, a resting place, that she was going around as 
daily seamstress and lady’s maid from house to house. 

Using her room but once or twice a week, she was in- 
different to the rummaging by the police of her scanty 
effects. For, she had arranged it so that its useless litter 
would tell no tales. 

In reality, her “last resort” was a cozy concealment with 
some of the women attendants, seamstresses and laun- 


FOR HER LIFE, 


145 


dresses of the palace household. There was her own 
private citadel, always open at any hour of the night and 
filled with stanch friends. 

It was from this changing, shifting entourage of the 
necessary hundreds “below stairs” that the billets, papers, 
and gloomy warnings of conspiracy are sometimes dis- 
tributed even on the imperial dressing tables. They reach 
to the very beds and lace-curtained cradles of the terror- 
haunted imperial family. For the wild huddle of the 
menial throng baffles the attempt of the keenest spies to 
chase any one individual beggar. The strong arm of the 
police has been powerless for twenty years to accurately 
enumerate or control these floating self-constituted 
“members of the household.” The interlopers fatten 
under the roof of the Romanoffs. They are of a certain 
usefulness in times of feasting or unusual demands of 
the palace work. The good angel of peace spread her 
white wings over the Zastrow household for a few fleeting 
hours of fancied security while that talking wire was at 
work. I was early awakened on this dingy winter day, 
and with a sigh, my cares and fears returned to busy me. 

How Durand would communicate was to me an en- 
igma. My letters. My last directions to my sister. The 
news for my clients. The orders to my bankers. I was 
now linked with Durand’s fate. After coffee, the maid 
who was the unconscious bearer of the last night’s mes- 
sage, said to Hermione as I stole into her room to confer 
that one of the laundresses wished to see her for some 
directions. “One of the laundresses!” she cried. “Oh, 
yes! I remember!” and she smiled peculiarly. “Show 
her in — at once.” 

The woman was shown up to our wing. I was not 
astonished to find the faithful French woman, Durand, 
before us in the guise of a “blanchisseuse.” I dared not 
greet her. I longed to ask all her tidings, but my watch- 
ful companion anticipated me. 

Hermione and her masked guardian retired to my 
room and I chafed as they were closeted for a brief time. 
My companion in danger was now fully enlightened as to 
the last night’s occurrences. Their own plans for the 
future were quickly arranged. Durand informed Tier- 

10 


146 


FOR HER LIFE. 


mione that the assistance and ready disguises of all the 
palace working women were now at her own disposal. 

The winter custom of wrapping the whole face in a 
white fleece wool shawl, not heavier than a thick veil, 
made her disguise almost impregnable. “I can always 
reach you at will, and I will watch.” 

Durand quickly prepared to depart. But when she 
asked me for orders as to the letters still in the hands 
of the police I conferred with Hermione. I was puzzled. 
It was decided to destroy them (if returned), and then 
substitute others of a more careful preparation to be writ- 
ten by me in the afternoon, and sent out of Russia by the 
next departure of any trusted friend. The police copies 
would then be useless to them. The interior of Zastrow’s 
house was similar in its complexity of unofficial inmates 
to the more ambitious Winter Palace. Misery drives all 
the attendants, goaded by the police, to help each other, 
and the Russian working classes are kind and tender- 
hearted to misery. 

Every artifice and stratagem is used. To the honor 
of the Russian character, be it said, only the higher for- 
eign attendants ever betray their humble fellows or even 
their superiors to the bloody spies of the police for money. 
From the Baltic to the Pacific the hand of Russian char- 
ity reaches the poor and needy. 

At the family breakfast all was as serene as usual. The 
Komaroffs, the General and his wife; all gaily rallied me 
on my escapade. While we prepared for the afternoon 
amusements and went on our varied paths (the ladies 
trifling with the daily round of hospitable enjoyment), 
that fatal key at the “Secret Bureau” was already clicking 
off its answers to the fabricated dispatches of the night 
before. So, while we all played, the enemy was sowing 
tares. General Haxo was gleefully immersed in his net- 
weaving to catch the leaders of conspiracy, to intercept 
cipher letters, to watch the doubtful arrivals, and to 
push on one cherished private plan. 

By the operator, who had inscribed the replies as far 
as reported, sat Colonel Luboff, mute and diligent, in the 
dreaded presence of the ambitious and relentless general. 
He feared to meddle in this private scheme. The secre- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


147 


tary handed out one after another the different cipher 
books on demand. Their scattered record was as follows : 

Paris. 

General Michael Zastrow, 

Admiralty Quai, 

St. Petersburg: 

Leave this morning. Please report condition of my 
brother to me, Berlin, Frederickstrasse Station, to-mor- 
row afternoon. Leave there at midnight to join you. 
Please meet me. Madeleine Grahame. 

The magic key had this to say for another faithful 
sister: 

Mon Plaisir, via Kief. 

Walter Grahame, 

Zastrow House, 

Admiralty Quai, Petersburg: 

Dispatch received. Leave in a week. Will follow 
directions and telegraph. Justine Zastrow. 

So, a loving girl, a true and devoted matron, were be- 
ing drawn in by craft and fraud, to mingle in the last act 
of General Haxo’s society drama, in unexploited tab- 
leaux yet to be arranged, in detail ! — Helpless virtue goes 
always unarmed into the maelstrom of this cunning Rus- 
sian duplicity. It moves along unresisting and with no 
hope but the distant clemency of the Emperor of fifty 
broken up nations. He is the most ignorant man in Rus- 
sia, as to the woes of those who groan under his yoke. 
For, how could one man, without omniscience, taste the 
woes of a hundred millions, speaking thirty tongues? 

Briefly and sharply the instrument ticked off the 
' answers of the ready Muscovite agents. 

(Cipher.) 

.... General Haxo Berlin 

Petersburg 

Dispatch received. Dimitri waiting orders 

from Petroff 

Baranoff. 


148 


FOR HER LIFE. 


The ready wily Greek waited now only for his chief s 
detailed directions, to dog the path of the girl summoned 
from Paris to the sick bed of her guardian brother: A 
long winter pilgrimage of love for a tender American 
girl! — Another quick response was a proof of how ready 
and sure the electric knot ties up the fates of those under 
the ban! 


(Secret.) 

.... Police Bureau 

(Luboff.) 

Orders received. Correspondence will be 

all detained and sent in at once . 

.For the Minister of the Interior. 

Karasoff 

General A. D. C. 


The infamous breaking of the private seals of letters 
is an every day privilege of the Interior Department in 
Russia. It is elegantly done, too, in France, officially, 
and skillfully in Germany by amateurs. A few hours will 
duplicate any necessary crest or cipher, and the papers 
look inviolate. These little tricks are not unknown — 
even in free America! 

All yields to the magic touch of the continental official 
everywhere, who screens this scoundrelism behind the 
thin shadows of his menial agents ! In Italy and Austria, 
letters are gradually sifted through many curious eyes, 
also! 

Luboff made up his neat “precis” of these replies, — 
entrusting all to the impassive Secretary! He had now 
no special interest in this “case!’’ For the fruits of this' 
victory were the General’s! — and — the credit, too, would 
be his! 

An hour or two wore away. The pitiless rise and fall 
of the magnet dropped, in .private characters, these last 
tidings, showing the pawns of the game of live chess, all 
to be responsive to the guiding mind of the hidden 
player! 


FOR HER LIFE. 


149 


(Cipher — Cable.) 

. De Giers, for 

General Haxo, 

Petersburg. 

From 

Washington. 

Madeleine Grahame. Gray eyes; fair hair; figure 
medium; face round; height, five-three. Age, nineteen. 
Walter Grahame, passport. Issued, Paris Legation. No 
description here. 

Barthelemy, 

Minister. 

All was in readiness. Luboff finished his notes, clasped 
his private book, and returned the cipher codes. Rising, 
he saluted his chief. General Haxo was running over 
the reports of a dozen dark tangles of varied importance. 
His morning grist. 

“Excellency. Report affair Grahame. — Final orders to 
me, now, if you please. I am ready to depart!” Haxo 
flashed his eager eyes in joy. 

“Proceed,” said the Chief, drily, lifting his head and 
sternly fixing his steady eye on the subordinate. The 
game was now spreading out its chances before him, — 
and, — he scented a coming victory! 

Full report was made. No comment by Luboff, who 
stood as impassive as a Venetian bravo! — His arm and 
sword were ready! 

“Good! Take your train. Report personally to me 
the arrival at the frontier of this lady. Send Dimitri’s 
notes by wire from Evdtkunen. Telegraph summary 
from Wilna. The Secretary will answer. I leave him my 
instructions. 

“Remember, Colonel” (as he extended his hand); — 
“Nothing turns you aside a single moment. I hold you 
personally responsible for her safety and every comfort. 
Use my full power — and — make no mistake. Remember 
that! Au revoir!” 


150 


FOR HER LIFE. 


Colonel Luboff saluted, and went out without a word ! 
His path of duty led him to the four winds ! 

The Chief was alone. Jingling- bells told that the Sub- 
Chief was on his road! And General Haxo smiled a 
pleasant, warming smile! “I think she will have many a 
tete-a-tete with me yet!” 

Haxo studied long the answers as noted by the silent 
Secretary! His morning cigar was an excellent one! 
Good humor beamed on every line of his face. — With a 
contented expression he read off Madeleine’s descrip- 
tion. 

“Ah! Yes! Gray eyes. — Fair hair, — and so on, — quite 
another person. I can perhaps compare these two varied 
types of American beauty. It is a pity to have to use her 
as a final evidence! — Duty!” he sighed, “Duty calls! I 
wonder if she is as handsome as the other,” he mused. 
“N’lmporte! This brother is rich, and the trip will do 
her good! He will be glad to say nothing!” 

“Now for you, — General Michael Zastrow!” and the 
General gaily smiled as he tossed the papers to the nim- 
ble clerk, who locked them away in a private chest of the 
huge safe! There were strange histories of heart-break 
hidden away there! Words pregnant with doom! 

The Chief’s comprehensive mind attacked another 
ready file of memoranda, with great complacence. — For, 
one shadow-dance succeeded another rapidly in the varied 
responsibilities of his exciting calling! A human catch- 
all! 

General Haxo was a very busy and a particularly well- 
satisfied man! Every day brought new fish to his out- 
spread nets! He had the official confidence of the 
“Czar!” “a dangerous friendship!” and, sometimes, in 
his wakeful hours, he wondered, himself, if a turn of the 
tide might not sweep him away — like Loris Melikoff — a 
banished exile — to distant shores! While this good 
supervising work was going bravely on, — I, still dis- 
concerted and anxious for my letters, was looking 
over the papers at the English club. I spent all my 
time with the most powerful of the family friends, when 
moving around the interesting city, and I usually found 
them at the Grande Italianskaia, behind the windows of 


FOR HER LIFE. 


151 


the club, dating from great Catharine’s kindly permit to 
an English favorite, the happy Gardener. 

Prudence caused me to abandon the more ordinary 
haunts of the tourist. I felt the tremors of the coming 
upheaval. I feared some scheme of the pawns of the 
Police Chief! and, I was now sure of nothing — but the 
necessity for my departure, and — Serge ! 

The quiet bow of Mademoiselle Dauvray was our only 
usual exchange of distant salutations at the family table! 
Her eyes were now to me very keenly observant of every 
new shade of our society “dress parade” actions! Per- 
haps I was only too timorous! and yet, I feared the sleek, 
self-controlled spy. Was she digging her pit now for 
Serge? I courteously ignored her existence: — feeling 
that distance was the safest armor! And, I decided, to 
assure myself of her presence in the house before I ven- 
tured on further night expeditions! — I must baffle her! 

What would Durand receive at her report to the police. 
Ah! Hermione would hear that in some way soon! If 
I could only get my warning to Madeleine and my busi- 
ness tidings safely on their way!” 

I tried to think over a safe way out! I had pushed my 
legal business as far along as possible, and if a departure 
could be made which would be not a flight, I was ready ! 
For my substantial, legal victory was won! But, I could 
not! — I dared not abandon Hermione. 

To rid the Zastrows of Hermione’s dangerous presence 
was my only wish! And — still, she was so noble, so 
steadfast, so devoted to Trepoff — and — young and lovely, 
— life offered her still its golden crown of love ! 

Justine was safe in her property and peace. — The most 
devilish ingenuity could fasten nothing on her. For her 
husband was a tried official of the navy — and — a great 
country proprietor! She was absent and innocent! 
Thank God for that! My real sister was far away and 
safe ! I alone would be endangered in any fracas. There 
was the general disgrace and future official distrust of all 
the Zastrows! Hermione was, however, in mortal peril! 
I feared that Serge Zastrow’s plan was becoming too 
complicated to succeed! 

Could I not get Hermione to Warsaw and smuggle 


152 


FOR HER LIFE. 


her over the frontier at night? Could we not depart 
alone — without the Komaroffs? — Some excuse — and 
with letters to the General at Warsaw? 

Would the Mouravieff friendship not help us now? 
The Councillor was all powerful ! — his lovely consort and 
the Komaroffs yet enjoying the wide range of social pleas- 
ures of their favorite city. They all seemed to be strange- 
ly fond of Hermione. — The little Countess Vera was 
daily making a higher throne for herself in Serge Zas- 
trow’ s heart, and the Dauvray had never suspected her 
recreant lover’s real devotion. 

There was an added reason for them to linger in the 
gay capital. — Vera had confided her love to her indulgent 
mother’s heart ! Serge was true as steel. The little Prin- 
cess would assist. I could not make a plan for myself! 
I could only wait events! 

How much should 1 tell Captain Zastrow of my private 
troubles? Would it only excite him to rashness? 

While thinking of all this, the Club Steward brought 
me a note marked “Immediate.” The Zastrow family 
sleigh was at the door in all its splendid state. 

My charming little friend Vera wrote that an aid of 
Count Mouravieff presented his compliments, and re- 
quested me to call at that noble’s Palace on the “Moika” 
as soon as possible. My heart beat violently, in the view 
of my intercepted correspondence being thrust at me! 

But, in obeying, I lost no time ! — wrapped in the warm 
sleigh robes. I wondered what the great noble really 
wished of me, — as I dashed away. 

The flying hoofs spurned away the soft snow. I had 
only time to reflect that Count Mouravieff, though a re- 
tired statesman, was still “aide de camp of the Emperor,’’ 
and Chief of the Council. In this capacity he saw all the 
secret reports! and much passed before his eyes which 
never reached the world! 

He was, moreover, allied to our warm friend, the 
Komaroffs ! 

“Thank God! I will be in friendly hands!” I mur- 
mured, as the sleigh stopped at his door. 

We drew up before the stately private residence of the 
great, retired diplomat. — It was the home of a man known 


FOR HER LIFE. 


153 


over the whole civilized world. — A man who had juggled 
for empires. 

I sent in my modest card. — In a few moments, the 
“majordomo,” — a relic of the foreign career of the great 
man, returned. I was treated with the extreme of “high 
consideration.’’ Ah — I was expected! 

“General Mouravieff would receive me in his library 
at once.” I began to breathe in the hopes of some pleas- 
ant social interlude. I followed my usher up the marble 
stairway with a quickly-beating heart. For — my nerves 
were all agog! 

I was announced in a long preamble oPhigh-sounding 
Russian as I entered a vast room, with many windows 
facing on the grand canal of the Moika ! A fine library 
filled half of the great apartment. The other was su- 
perbly decked with military trophies, articles proudly re- 
calling the career of the soldier-statesman, — and many 
noble hunting relics! The record of past exciting hours 
by flood and field. 

Rising from a great working desk, the Count came 
half way to meet me, with a courtly grace. 

Speaking in the purest English, he said, slowly — “I 
thank you for coming at once, — I wished to have a little 
talk with you! Pray be seated!” and I controlled my 
bounding pulses as he rang a silver bell. A servant 
brought tea, wines and varied smoking materials! I 
stole one good look at the man who had, sword in hand, 
helped to capture, in his fiery youth, the great Circassian 
rebel “Schamyl!” Fie had laid the victor’s sword aside 
to become as fine as an Italian magnifico — as wily as a 
bright-browed Greek, and as gravely subtle as a Span- 
ish Don! He had skillfully outwitted the unspeakable 
Turk in a long conflict of patient “diplomatic intrigue,” 
— an art which, “we of the baser sort,” would call polite 
lying to order! 

Sixty-five eventful years had not bowed his stalwart 
frame! In the full uniform of a General aide-de-camp, 
his high brow, restless, glittering black eyes and abund- 
ant dark hair, brushed straight back over his ears : — with 
a thin, drooping black mustache, as quaintly pencilled as 
a Chinese mandarin, — showed his pure Tartar descent. 


154 


FOR HER LIFE. 


And the fine, subtle brain worked calmly, while the rest- 
less eyes blazed with a hidden fire, — a man to defy ob- 
stacles — to wait, to crush his foe at last. 

Grave, ready, courteous, his roving, keen black eyes 
measured me in evident interest, and I thrilled in ex- 
pectant mental excitement ! Why had I been courteously 
drawn into his meshes ! 

Accepting his offers of a cigar and a glass of wine, I 
watched him then prepare his own tea, a la Russe, in a 
superb golden-framed crystal cup, an Emperor’s gift, — 
while he calmly selected a cigarette of huge dimensions 
from a pile ready on a Turkish filagree tray ! The dreamy 
perfection of the Mussulman’s unequalled arts! 

He pleasantly led the conversation on from his own 
younger days to army life, and then his English, Conti- 
nental and Turkish diplomatic experience! He was play- 
ing me — studying me, “sizing me up,” as it were! 

Deeply interested and charmed I was! The younger 
campaigning in the Caucasus vastly interested me. I 
forgot my pending woes in following him, in the roman- 
tic pictures of his youth. The ex-Premier took down the 
splendidly-mounted sabre of the great Circassian rebel 
“Schamyl” from the superb central trophy on the wall. 
It was a grand array of all the great chief’s armor and 
panoply ! 

He lightly swung the Damascus blade till it whistled 
keenly! and yet he sighed, as he said, — “The fighting 
days are past ! The pen is mightier than the sword ! The 
steel rail ties up the world to a hum-drum bourgeois 
peace! The world has lost its chivalry! Men like 
Schamyl are born no more ! The hero mould is broken !” 

In a few moments our conversation drifted to the 
grand gala opera night! “Ah! Yes! I must attend! It 
is almost de rigeur! My wife, of course, is too loyal to 
miss it!” 

I asked “pro forma,” for the Countess, for we had all, 
in due state, made our return visite de ceremonie, and 
been drawn here upon a personal summons! 

After a few minutes the host remarked, — “Now, Mr. 
Grahame ! I will be very frank with you ! I sent for you 


FOR HER LIFE. 


155 


to ask you a question. Do you intend to stay very long 
in Russia? Here, in Petersburg?” 

I was not prepared for such perfect directness! It 
staggered me! 

He eyed me keenly! and I asked myself, in vain, what 
was prompting his question? Was my correspondence 
in his hands? 

I remarked, “I have some large interests here to look 
over! I may have to return next year! May I ask you, 
General, why you inquire?” 

“Ill tell you,” was his measured answer, with a most 
engaging candor in his grave voice. “I am, you perhaps 
know, — still something of a personage, — ‘though not at 
present on the active list’, ” said he, with a faint, sarcastic 
smile. I felt the worst was at hand ! My secrets were in 
his cool keeping! 

I bowed in silence. “The whole world knows that you 
are very near your Imperial master!” I politely rejoined. 
He smiled. 

“In my capacity of President of the Council, and as aid 
to His Majesty the Emperor, I always know a good deal 
of what is transpiring!” So he quietly continued, eyeing 
me with a friendly interest. 

“You are a stranger to our land! You are friendly 
with my own friends and near relatives, the Komaroffs! 
I like your own people here, the Zastrows. They are old 
and loyal servants of the Czar. There is some busybody 
mixing up in your private affairs ; and in a manner which 
threatens to make your stay here in the future unpleas- 
ant, — need I say, — dangerous even!” 

I started! 

“If I were you, I would quietly arrange and then leave 
Russia in a very few days! Can you do so without any 
special trouble to yourself? Any sacrificing of the legal 
interests you represent?” 

“I can go in a week, General! I would like, however, 
to see Moscow and Warsaw before I leave,” said I, art- 
fully disguising my real concern! But, my secret fears 
would have given me wings! I envied the birds of the 
air! 

“Very good! Just the very thing! Komaroff is dov/n 


156 


FOR HER LIFE. 


there at Warsaw! He will make it very pleasant for you! 
I will also give you a special letter to General Gourko, 
who is now Commander at Moscow ! You can then go 
out by Moscow, Warsaw and Vienna! You will, I beg 
of you, understand that this is strictly confidential, 
Sir!” said he, rising. “There are things which I can 
not explain, — but, trust a friend — an old soldier, and 
— follow my advice, I beg!” 

I rose and thanked the kindly Muscovite noble. I 
understood the delicacy which would shield me — a stran- 
ger, and betray no duty! 

‘‘May I ask one question, General?” said I, as I pre- 
pared to take leave. 

He turned his eyes on me with a faint shade of polite 
weariness! 

“Certainly! my dear sir. I am at your service!” was 
the answer. 

“Can I tell this to my sister?” I flatly queried. For 
I wished to secure Hermione in the laissez passer of this 
great noble’s outstretched hand! 

The General gave me a sharp glance. I had been most 
unfortunate ! I had tried a clumsy riposte in this polite 
fencing! 

“I would much prefer not! I have met your charming 
sister at our reception! The Countesses Komaroff are 
both devoted to her! I would be much pleased if you 
would not unnecessarily alarm her! You know what 
women are?” He smiled meaningly. “In fact, Colonel, 
the curiosity is rather devoted to her own private affairs 
than to you! If you have any future annoyance, you can, 
however, count on me! Madame Komaroff and Vera are 
extremely fond of your remarkably handsome sister!” 
He paused. “You understand me! I am sure!” And 
then I felt in my heart that this great patrician suspected 
me — and, would save scandal! 

He offered his hand. I pressed it warmly. I was then 
courteously shown out of the superb working room of 
the warrior diplomatist. — I had received a warning of the 
most imminent danger — and — been pointed to the “way 
out!” 

As I walked down the stairway, an idea came to my 


FOR HER LIFE. 


157 


mind. “Why is he willing to help to shield a smirched 
woman? An impostor! Count Mouravieff does not want 
the faux pas of the presentation of a suspected woman 
to society to compromise his noble wife’s grande levee. 
For, the Komaroffs, his relatives, vouched for her!” I 
saw Serge’s bold game of social bluff! They will all 
tacitly help us, and the whole Zastrow clan also! We 
must get away from the winter city as soon as possible! 

I stepped briskly into the waiting sleigh, big with my 
news, and soon rejoined my anxious secret comrade in 
danger — Hermione. 

The dark afternoon was waning in gloom! All was 
quiet at the Zastrow home, and I recounted my interview 
in the shelter of my “sister’s” room. Hermione agreed 
with me I should make the attempt to go out by Mos- 
cow and Warsaw. 

“He suspects! He all but knows the truth! Only 
Serge Zastrow’s skillful imposture saves me now from 
arrest ! My God ! What a slender reed !” she moaned ! 

Our factotum, Durand, had brought back my captured 
letters! To shield my innocent sister, Madeleine, from 
any possible future trouble, I wrote her the same gen- 
eral substance as before, in carefully veiled words, only 
to meet me at Munich, and using a new date to corres- 
pond with my probable arrival. She would find my news 
with our Consul. To the bankers I changed the letter, 
giving to them a new cablegram for America, as I in- 
tended to linger now with Madeleine some time at Mu- 
nich! I would get Hermione out safely, please God, 
over the frontier, and then leave her dangerous society 
at once ! Then, with my sister, I would join Justine later 
in the summer at Kiev, having gone back by Warsaw 
with the real Madeleine, in case all passed over quietly, 
and the Zastrows were unquestioned! To Trepoff and 
the passionate Hermione, I would leave love’s paradise 
of the future! , 

This was one indicated route. I had Mouravieff, 
Gourko, and the General Komaroff as powerful active 
friends! I also now counted absolutely on Vera Ko- 
maroff acting for me, with Captain Serge Zastrow hirm 
self at a pinch, to come a? far as the frontier, arte) see 


158 


FOR HER LIFE. 


us over that dreaded, invisible danger line. Yes! It all 
looked very practicable ! 

For that very afternoon Vera had hidden her blushing 
face on her new friend’s shoulder. She told her that 
Serge Zastrow had spoken to her mother that very day, 
and the gracious Countess had guaranteed her gallant 
husband’s consent to the marriage of these light-hearted 
lovers! 

Young love! First love! True love! Magic plant of 
Paradise, growing pure and delicate in the icy realms of 
the Czar! And, thank God! I had met one pure white 
lily of love blooming here in the icy waste of these north- 
ern skies! 

This Edelweiss of the arctic blooms under Slavic snows 
in the maidens’ hearts! For, man has not known love 
til! he has clasped an ardent, fiery Russian to his beating 
heart ! 

Tender and winning are the plaintive love songs of the 
Russian peoples of all grades! The woman’s heart is 
the same everywhere! But, it wildly awakes its most 
witching strain, trembling under Russia’s skies! 

I was pleased at the whole outlook. The skies seemed 
to have cleared! Golden love clouds reflected a shining 
happiness on these dark days! Perhaps Mouravieff was 
bidden to spirit me away with Hermione, and kill a 
scandal! Only a positive denouncement could now pre- 
vent our going out. We agreed to broach the subject at 
dinner and not wait for the opera! For Count Mou- 
ravieff ’s hint was a most meaning one, — a veiled order! 

This was at last decided on! I knew old General Zas- 
trow would be quite relieved to have us depart. He liked 
his quiet hours, and the child’s prattle! He lived in a 
strain under his load of sorrow and general family care! 
For the sunset days were growing very short! He was 
old and feeble ! I drove out alone after dinner and found 
Marie Durand waiting for me by a summons secretly con- 
veyed in the main arched gate of the square of the Winter 
Palace. A safe place for any one ! — In the Bear’s Den ! — 
I stopped the sleigh at a place agreed on by my sister. I 
walked under the great arch and met Durand in a few 


POE HER LIFE. 


159 


moments! She disappeared with my new letters and 
documents for Paris, and returned in joy to tell me they 
were in hands of safety. An interior mail towards Siberia 
via Kief was leaving that night under the control of re- 
actionists who were high officials! A secret Paris mail 
was also departing for the frontier, in the hands of a 
veteran First Valet, to an Imperial Grand Duke going 
on a brief run to taste Parisian novelties, and extend his 
knowledge of the gay world a la mode de Paris! — A 
strange escort to the “red records.” The royal baggage, 
never inspected, would carry a good mail for the desper- 
ate revolutionists. Truly strange deals, these were, play- 
ing with the cards of life and death, — in that ever-des- 
perate game! The devoted few against the hosts of the 
great colossus of the North! 

But, so it is! Force must be always met with craft! 
The fox outwitting the grim King of Beasts! — And, 
these paltry victories of petty craft, alas! how unavailing! 

I thanked the good Durand, and regained the house 
of my friendly refuge! I had now closed my whole 
preparations, and waited only the chance to depart! 

In the salon, our own familiar circle was merry enough! 
The announcement of our impending departure caused 
Trepoff to arrange the details of our escort to the un- 
avoidable opera party for three days later. He alone 
was gloomy! He was loth to lose Hermione! For, her 
love had grown to be his daily life! once parted, when 
would they meet! Duty might divide them, perhaps ac- 
cident or death sever them forever! It would be months 
before he could join her abroad! 

The grand opera was to be opened for the winter! The 
loyal Russian nobility and boyars would hail with joy the 
renewal of their annual splendidly luxurious social re- 
views before the eyes of their mighty ruler! 

The whole Imperial family would favor the loyal pub- 
lic with their august presence ! 

And this would be our first and last appearance en 
famille, a trial which it had been found impossible to 
avoid! For, Madame Komaroff’s displeasure would be 
fatal. Major Trepoff with Madame Komaroff and the 
happy young Countess Vera, arranged all the details of 


160 


FOR HER LIFE. 


the evening’s ‘sortie en masse,’ while the frightened Her- 
mione and I exchanged meaning glances in a gloomy 
apprehension. We. sighed for the signal to go forth! 
Serge was revelling in the seventh heaven of his new- 
found happiness! For, the pledged assistance of Vera’s 
mother renewed every doubt of his happy union! 

Our whole party was to dine for the last time together 
at the Zastrow mansion the next night, as Captain Zas- 
trow took it kindly on himself to arrange our proposed 
departure. For we would not dare to trust Dimitri Tre- 
poff at the station, with the eyes of Hermione pleading 
in parting! 

Not a break had occurred in the pleasant links of our 
general friendship, and the suspicions of the Zastrows had 
never been aroused for a moment! I saw, with pleasure, 
that Hermione felt now sure of getting out safely, if we 
only reached Warsaw unmolested: for surely General 
Komaroff would aid us, coming to him with the escort 
of his wife and daughter, fresh from the home of his life- 
long friend, — and furnished with Mouravieff’s creden- 
tials ! Even Felise Dauvrav’s eyes ceased to follow Serge 
as he lingered near Hermione! Had she relented? 

Yes. All looked serene. The only cloud on my mental 
vision was that evening’s espionage! The sudden pounc- 
ing down on Marie Durand! The attempt to criminate 
me with the dangerous documents of Nihilism ! Did they 
hope to trap me as a bearer of illicit tidings? And, — the 
one we now shielded as our joint trust of honor! She had 
been never annoyed! Not a hostile glance! What did 
it mean! I marvelled! I was astounded at the absence 
of Haxo and his mysterious brother General! 

Had Haxo the power to annoy us further? Did he 
know anything, or only suspect? If he could not prove 
positive guilt before our leaving his sphere of action we 
might get away unscathed! He had been baffled once, 
and I had now Mouravieff, Gourko and Komaroff, — all 
men who hated the trade of a military policeman; to 
officially wink at our going! Trepoff, too, was in high 
favor with the Grand Duke, and his days were unmo- 
lested now! 

We decided to keep as quiet as we could, and our last 


FOR HER I4FE. 


161 


tempting of Fate would be at the opera. Had the first 
suspicion been allayed by our prudence? So — I fondly 
dreamed in hope! 


CHAPTER VII. 

AT THE OPERA— RECOGNITION— SERGE ZASTROW TO 
THE RESCUE. 

The day after my interview with General Mouravieff, 
the Bureau of the Military Police was ruled by a happy 
man, in the person of its redoubtable Chief. There was 
a favoring tide sweeping homewards his barks from the 
seas of chance! 

One virtuous action in sequence leads quickly to an- 
other! He had sent the following consoling dispatch, 
being a very gallant man, — this incipient lover of Hermi- 
one — to allay the natural anxiety of a loving and solici- 
tous American woman! Ah! General Haxo knew the 
fond woman’s heart, but too well! An expert! 

(Open.) 

Mme. Madeleine Grahame From Petersburg. . . . 

Fredrickstrasse Station, 

Berlin. 

Yours received. Your brother a trifle better. Needs 
your kindest care. Telegraph to me from Wilna. Will 
meet you. 

Michael Zastrow, 

Admiralty Quai. 

This very fortunate afternoon the crowning reward of 
official virtue also duly arrived! It much cheered the 
industrious and thoughtful Chief! For his harvest was 
now nearly ready for the sickle! He bad planted the seed 
of a wonderful growth ! 

U 


164 


FOR HER LIFE. 


“A capital idea!” cried her happy lover. 

I was alone, for all our ladies were busied with toilette 
engineering. General Zastrow accorded me time to thank 
him for a very agreeable family visit, which he demanded 
should be repeated in planning out our future course as 
to the family movements. “My friend! I feel as if you 
were one of us, — and, you must bring Justine, too!” I 
colored in conscious shame! 

We were a gay party at dinner. Merrily we pledged a 
cup to our speedy return to our friends. and home!— And 
—“do swidanya!” — the pretty Russian phrasing of 
;‘ ( come again.” I was ashamed to deceive the dear old 
hero ! 

My happiness might have been alloyed if I could 
only have read the telegram which was the very last link 
of Haxo’s genial series of officially assisted volunteer cor- 
respondence! It would never, however, reach its intend- 
ed address! Ah! No! It might warn us! — and — that 
opera party might be deferred. Its resting place was the 
office safe, in the hands of the police. 


Mon Plaisir, 

Walter Grahame, via Kief, 

care General Michael Zastrow, 

Admiralty Quai, — 

St. Petersburg. 

Leave to-morrow. Arrive next day. No letters from 
you. Well. 


Madeleine. 


“I think this is what I might call da fin de l’histoire’ ” 
— mused General Haxo. “The play now plays itself out, 
— and — I will enjoy the last tableaux. A genoux. Yes! 
She shall beg of me!” 

The morrow dawned. I was now in full readiness to 
depart! The passports had arrived with the full official 
visas! I felt a secret urging to take the very first train. 
I felt undefinable influence drawing me away, A 
secret voice crying, “Hasten! on your life!” I 
wished to see the gates of the long-desired frontier, and 
the first glance at the German colors would be the signal 


FOR HER LIFE. 


165 


of a blessed release from bondage. To see the American 
flag again at home, with my dear and true sister at my 
side, would be Paradise! And, the shy face of the de- 
mure Quaker girl who now owned a controlling interest 
in me! I longed for her bright smile! Hermione and I 
discussed every means of avoiding the ordeal. We could 
not, without the very greatest suspicion, now refuse the 
opera party. The invalid fiction had been exhausted. It 
would be a fitting close to the social successes of the visit, 
— this grand full dress family parade, — and, — so we dared 
not try any lame invention of the last hour. No! Be- 
sides, Serge, with us, was a tower of strength, a power- 
ful aid in the event of a sudden flurry or the occurrence 
of any unhappy official juncture. He was so quick- 
witted! His demand for the hand of his finacee was only 
a matter of form. The happy Vera had now written her 
own sweet confession to her august father, and while he 
dallied, in tender regret, she had received a warm-hearted 
intimation of his final favorable decision. The pretty 
fairy took all for granted now, as her delighted mother 
seconded the spoiled child of Love! 

So, Serge would link me to the Komaroffs, as a con- 
nection of blood and interest, which, though distant, 
would still seal the secret of my inadvertent generosity, 
my rashness in aiding Hermione, especially when Trep- 
off had claimed her for life. 

The day wore on. I visited the florists’ fairy bowers. 
In my capacity of “brother” I sent to Hermione my first 
love-offering of the kind. But, Dimitri Trepoff’s princely 
generosity had loaded her with fragrant wealth! 

To the charming Vera, I sent a floral reminder of her 
kindness, and yet, only of a modest nature. For, I did 
not dare to rob Serge of the unspeakable joy of giving 
fifty roubles for a corbeille of roses and fair camelias, for 
his young captive fairy! I was in as eager a flutter as a 
debutante rosebud at her first, her very first “swell party!” 
And yet, I was not sure at heart! 

Trepoff florally expressed his compliments to the host- 
ess, and Vera, too, not forgetting Madame Zastrow. 
While the ladies were happy in these winter-born blos- 
soms, dark shadows of fear gathered around my own 


166 


FOR HER LIFE. 


brooding heart! It was, indeed, a long day of expecta- 
tion. The grand opera long had been opened, warmed, 
searched, examined and every precaution taken; and, 
as I drove by, on a little outing for fresh air, I marked the 
squads of soldiers, the crowds of police hovering there, 
for I knew my suspected enemies now, and I prayed that 
they would ignore me absolutely — and my provisional 
sister in their lynx-eyed attentions ! 

A battalion of the guards were on duty early. Palace 
officials, aids and inspectors hovered in busy earnestness 
around the grand facade of the magnificent Temple of 
Music. It seemed as if Caesar would hold a royal court 
in the temple of Polyphemia! I would fain have been 
hiding in a cellar! Huge bonfires burned in the square, 
for the purpose of keeping the hundreds of drivers warm 
in the long waiting hours. For, the days now were a 
few twilight hours and an eighteen hours’ stretch of 
Cimmerian darkness, half of which dead hours the 
revelers called “daylight.” Double pickets of mounted 
cossacks occupied every corner. The Circassian Body 
Guard was mounted, and ready to take charge of the 
Imperial cortege. There seemed to be nothing left in 
the way of loose strings in the department of my ener- 
getic enemy, General Plaxo. The party of the great would 
include court officials of the highest rank and the Dames 
of the Palace, — with those brightest jewels of the Rus- 
sian crown, the Maids of Honor, the very blossoms of 
the budding aristocrats! These fair graduates of the Im- 
perial Catherine Institute were the especial protegees of 
the gracious Empress, and their patrician loveliness 
alone, in the language of the circus bill, was worth the 
whole price of the admittance. There could be nothing 
more brilliant in any modern court. The decorative 
preparations, too, were of a really Asiatic splendor. For 
a long purse has the White Czar, as well as a long arm to 
wield it. In the afternoon I left my parting card at the 
American Legation. As soon as I had received my pass- 
ports en regie, I telegraphed openly to the Paris bankers 
to send no more letters to Russia, — but all to Vienna to 
their agency. For, was I not safe now? I had freedom 
in my pocket! — so I fondly dreamed! I naturally sup- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


167 


posed Madeleine, — whom I hungered to see once 
more— would get this at once! The bankers would sure- 
ly notify her at once, and so I saved my extra roubles for 
a duplicate. 

I could not know that the flying wheels were even now 
bearing both my dear ones toward the Czar’s capital, 
summoned by the lying messages of a man who joyecl 
already over my social disgrace — and final ruin. The 
last ceremonial dinner ended, the mysteries of the toilet 
claimed our ladies. Thank God, the eyes of Felise Dau- 
vray were gentle and kindly. Her quiet manner had dis- 
armed my fears. For, she looked now pensive, gentle, 
even shadowed with tender regret. The Mouravieffs 
were to join us at supper later! We made one grand 
representative family party for the opera, and were to 
return to the Zastrows for the gay finale and the drink- 
ing of the stirrup cups ! I could scarcely believe it to be 
true, so happy was I ! When Hermione entered the salon, 
it was long after all the other ladies were ready. They 
were all Birds of Paradise in the plumage of the mystic 
arts of Fashion! But, she shone them all down — a witch- 
ing vision! I had so many cares weighing upon my 
bosom, that I had so far ignored all masculine curiosity 
as to my unknown sister’s last public appearance! I 
did not yet know her story! She only smiled and said: 
“Wait till Dimitri has the right to tell it!” 

On her entrance, the gentlemen rose in admiration! 
Even the ladies, usually cool critics, were carried away 
with a sudden enthusiasm! She was simply radiant! In 
royal white robes, her superb figure a dream of statu- 
esque symmetry and loveliness, — a sweet steadfast face, 
tender and delicate, with a lingering shade of melancholy, 
— she then turned her shining eyes on me with a last 
glance of unutterable affection. 

“Am I looking well to-night, brother Walter?” she 
said, with the unmoved accents of sisterly affection. I 
could only stammer an answer and secretly swear to 
adopt her forever. We were thrilled by the womanly 
beauty which seemed to cling around her, as a perennial 
blessing of the great Divine Mother: the principle of 
eternal Life, and Love! It seemed to implore our affec- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


m 

tion, our guardian care, our manly tenderness. Trepoff 
was spellbound! I whispered to her, when other con- 
gratulations were momentarily hushed, as I took her 
slender hand in mine — the ungloved one, flashing with 
jewels.. It was as cold as ice! Her bosom heaved, in a 
sudden gasp, as I leaned over her and said: “Hermione, 
you are dressed for a wedding! You only need the 
wreath I” 

She flashed one look of infinite sadness on me. A con- 
fidence,- —an appeal for all my brotherly support on this 
night, the terrible crisis of her stay on the Neva! 

“Mon ami, say, rather for a sacrifice! I have a presen- 
timent of coming sorrow which weighs me down! Pray 
God that you— that these” — she swept her stately head 
atound— “are saved, if the iron trap closes down on me !” 

“Courage!” I murmured. “All will be well yet! To- 
morrow night we will be at Warsaw, and— one more day 
will see us whirling past Thorn, over the smiling fields of 
Germany; and, then, you can tell me all — will you?” I 
whispered. She bowed. 

“Yes; some day.” And as she spoke she turned away 
to perforce play her exhausting role of the adventuress — 
the social sham — with a sad heart. It was at the risk of a 
momentary collapse. But, we tried to be lightly gay! 

The strain of helplessly waiting for our escape, pent 
up and environed by unknown dangers, was evidently 
telling fearfully on her failing reserves of womanly 
strength. Ah! bitter it is to smile and juggle with one’s 
own life! ‘Every preparation was now completed. Fans, 
hoods, cloaks, glasses and all the little weapons wielded 
by women in the “Merry War” of social life, were pro- 
vided, — and we were ready, like a corps d 7 elite, waiting 
the fatal order to move in as a forlorn hope! Two bosoms 
throbbed in ceaseless anxiety. 

A last glass of champagne was gayly served. We 
drank to the Emperor! And, my toast was a prayer, a 
silent supplication, for that mercy which Fate, Fortune, 
Chance or Luck may extend — when Providence frowns! 

The gentlemen were all resplendent in court dress and 
uniform. I was the fortunate unnoticed one. With star 
and order, aiguillette and ribboned sash, they were a bril- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


169 


liant trio, — while I was as cheerful-looking as an under- 
taker’s assistant ! The full dress of a gentleman of Amer- 
ica! I cared not for dress; I only envied freedom! It 
was in such brave attire, with all their ladies, the great 
leading Russian families would rally in social loyalty 
around the Czar on this festal night! It was my fervent 
wish to “Rally round the flag” — to rally around the Presi- 
dent of the United States of America, “irrespective of 
party”— and to keep rallying as near him as possible, 
with a strong preference for Philadelphia. 

Our sleighs were in waiting. By Hermione’s request, 
I remained in an especial brotherly charge of her! I 
could see that it was her own wish to avoid excitement 
and badinage, and that we should stand or fall together 
as an American double family eagle! It saved her the 
mockery of compliments! Alas! Poor tempest-tossed 
wanderer! I felt an infinite pity for her in this last cir- 
cumstantial fraud. No one had a right to legally protect 
her. Her dark past cut off that hope! She was power- 
less now to rebel against the thralls of some great past 
environment, which I as yet but darkly guessed. Her 
life was a sad mystery! Its undertones were tragic, — its 
future more than gloomy! Flashing lights danced by 
us as we flew over the snow. Our wild, spirited trotters 
tossed their slender necks! They seemed to soar away 
in the crystalline night! And, we rode on to that pleas- 
ure which was an agony of deceit to the brother of the 
very handsomest sister in all vast Russia! My poor waif 
of Fortune! The ladies were silent all. These beautiful 
butterflies were bundled in fur robes and wraps! And, 
it was the still half-hour before the battle! 

Pretty Vera had disappeared — a lost Peri — like a hid- 
den blossoming rose, — as the fleecy sables, covered all 
her beauty but her sparkling, youthful eyes, gleaming in 
First Love’s ardor! Arrived at the Place de l’Opera, we 
waited patiently in the long line, — between ranks of the 
splendid Garde a Cheval, the Russian Empress’ match- 
less Body Guard, — the gallant corps whose regimental 
boast is the one never-forgotten “forlorn hope” charge at 
Austerlitz! For, even the stern Napoleon cried “Vivent 
les braves!” as these superb nobles went recklessly 


170 


FOR HER LIFE. 


through and through the steel hedge about them! 
Shining cuirasses, knightly helmets with double- 
eagle crests, drawn long swords, and high jack 
boots, made the white Guardsmen a magnificent 
spectacle as they sat, as if carved in stone, on their 
great chargers! Spartans in war, sybarites in love! “Les 
extremes se touchent!” The electric lights threw a splen- 
dor far brighter than the pale Russian winter sun of day 
over the great square, — and thousands gazed on the 
flower of the Muscovite nobility here, coming to greet 
the greatest ruler on earth! 

Descending under a great canopy, we passed between 
the serried ranks of the renowned Preobajensky,the Em- 
peror’s famous Foot Guard, — whose many desperate at- 
tacks at Plevna had cost them scores of officers and hun- 
dreds of men, — the very manly flower of young Russia! 
Bayonet and sword glittered on every side! There was 
nothing wanting in magnificence! I sighed only for dis- 
tance, for my republican home ! Splendor and safety were 
both indicated by this grand display. No more glittering- 
ring ever closed up around royalty than these colossal 
fighters! Hermione was nervously anxious as our party 
gathered in the foyer to enter the opera. She pressed my 
hand in a last signal and whispered pleadingly as we en- 
tered the vast hall, “Be my savior! Keep all strange peo- 
ple away from me to-night ! I need your help, your friend- 
ly countenance! Do you keep your eyes fixed on me, — 
and, screen me, as much as you can !” I understood and 
nodded a promise. 

The brilliant throng was now pouring into the great 
domed interior. We were crowded along by scores of 
the “notables” of the land! A very swarm of the “blue- 
blooded” of this strange growing autocracy of the world ! 
The only impregnable modern throne! In a few mo- 
ments, we reached our boxes, only removed by two or 
three from the Imperial Loge. It was a terribly exposed 
position, and would be swept by hundreds of glasses; 
but, it must be faced! Freedom lay beyond it! The four 
great tiers of boxes, exhibited the proudest gathering of 
the opening season. A hum of a thousand bees rose on 
the perfumed air, and the subtle thrill of beautiful woman- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


171 


hood nerved all pulses strangely! Nobles, generals, 
diplomats, society “lions’’ and the court ladies, a human 
garden ensconced in their boxes, made a most dazzling 
entourage ! The pride of Life ! Only the blue and gold 
decorations parted the open boxes, which were now 
flowery bowers of animated loveliness ! I could have lin- 
gered a year to gaze, but my beating heart cried, “away, 
away,” as the Chief lifted his baton. I dared not gaze at 
Hermione! The grand parquet was a solid mass of 
brilliantly arrayed officers and youthful aristocrats. And 
the play was off the stage — a real court, with a real Czar 
and an unequalled company of nobles! It was the gay 
fabric of a dream! Delicious music floated softly from 
the great orchestra, a subdued hum of passion-thrilled 
voices mingled with fluttering fans, and then the ripples 
of low laughter as old friends greeted each other ! Many 
sweet secrets were flashed with a single smile! Our loge 
was the one nearest the Emperor in our party. Serge 
and Vera Komaroff made up our complement. Their 
eyes were shining with new found love! It was their 
whole world! In the other, General and Madame Zas- 
tro\u, Trepoff with Zastrow’s fairy rosebud granddaugh- 
ter, were placed around Madame la Comtesse Komaroff 
as the central jewel! Had I the right to have claimed it, 
pride in my “sister” Hermione’s beauty would have filled 
my heart! She had no peer in all the assembled three 
thousand! Sweet Vera, in rose color, was the Hebe of 
youth and young love! No wonder the handsome sailor 
adored her. 

Hermione sat with the satin opera cloak thrown back 
over her red velvet chair! Its pure white sheen, with the 
blue fox trimming, accentuated her indescribable loveli- 
ness, as she calmly surveyed the house, with a sweep of 
her glass! Ah! Poor daughter of Eve! She could be 
brave with an almost breaking heart! The royal dead 
white silk robe brought out in a delicate relief her exqui- 
site face, with the tender, wistful dark eyes! I had never 
seen a loveliness to compare, never ^dreamed of such a 
beauty throbbing in life! She was a goddess of classic 
outline, an embodiment of the noblest perfection! And 
the whole Russian social world present shared my opin- 


172 


FOR HER LIFE. 


ion in a wholesale query of interrogative recognition! A 
new goddess! An Idalian vision! Who was she? The 
instant effect of her beauty caused a faint color to deepen 
on her pale cheeks! In low and musical whispers she 
busied herself with the lively Vera, turning skillfully 
away for shelter, while the lively girl described many of 
the more illustrious arrivals, as they filled up the remain- 
ing boxes! And in this forced occupation she forgot the 
sword of destiny hanging over her by its slender hair! 
I occupied Serge with general questions, my object being 
to relieve Hermione of any unnecessary mental strain! 
And so the moments glided along! The overture began 
and soon the grand interior was now filled to overflow- 
ing. The heavy reserves arrived in a stately tardiness — 
for effect! Hermione’s bearing reassured me. She was 
regaining her wonted nerve control. Would this trying 
night sweep over in peace and day break for us in happi- 
ness? Suddenly the music paused and then the grand 
Russian National Hymn pealed out in majestic sonorous 
waves! It was the Czar! The Ruler of the Frozen 
North! The Ice King! All rose as the Imperial party 
swept in slowly and entered the state box. When the 
anthem was concluded, the overture continued when 
loyalty’s respectful demonstration was ended! There 
was the strained thrill of the Master’s eye upon every son 
of Rurik there, lifting up each proud heart! Fair and 
lovely was the delicate, graceful Empress in her dazzling 
robes. A gracious queen of night! She bore a prince’s 
ransom on her neck in the great world-famed Volga pearl 
necklace! A matchless diamond tiara flashed on her 
brows, and by her side sat the manly ruler of ninety mill- 
ions! A very King of men! An Ajax in bearing! The 
Emperor was in superb health, and near him his favorite 
brother, the popular Grand Duke Alexis — the very hand- 
somest Prince in Russia! Several Aids, Chamberlains 
and Equeries were ready at hand, “on duty” in and near 
the Imperial box; a bevy of chosen “Dames d’honneur,” 
lent their witching presence, as a foil to the rather pensive 
beauty of the beloved Empress ! But in all this splendid 
circle of human flowers, Hermione, my strangely found 
“sister,” easily shone the rest down! She ruled alone! 


FOR HER LIFE. 


173 


The opera was Rubinstein’s “Nero.” Its weird music 
and grand scenic effects soon enchanted the ladies. My 
eyes roved around in search of secret foes. I could not 
see a face on the stage — hear a note of the melody. My 
heart was restless. I was relived when the curtain rose, 
as Hermione seemed to feel now the nervous pressure of 
a thousand leveled lorgnettes! The sensation of her 
beauty was unmistakable and could not be disguised. 
The swelling strains and mimic tragedy proceeded. 
Thunders of applause, with showers of costly bouquets, 
followed the genial Emperor’s hearty hand signals for a 
general approval, and the Czarina’s delicate tribute of her 
own hand bouquet carried along all the house in a loyal 
imitation. When the curtain fell on the first act, my 
“sister” had regained her customary nonchalance and easy 
self control! I followed the local custom and walked 
alone around the gallery in rear of the boxes, greeting a 
Petersburg friend or two, and I wished to watch on pri- 
vate account. Serge could not be tempted from the side 
of the happiest budding Countess in all Muscovy,^ his 
own sweet, unspoiled Vera! I was happy at heart, for 
the hand of the evening was hidden ! The coast seemed 
to be clear! Were we forgotten? On returning I saw a 
cold, distinguished man of grave appearance, in plain 
evening dress, without a single star or order, standing at 
the door of the Emperor’s box. He seemed to direct 
every one by simple motion or courteous bow! A high- 
bred Figaro! Four gigantic grenadiers of the Foot 
Guard were on duty, and an immaculate young officer, 
“en grand tenue,” was conversing with the dark official 
who looked “out of his element” at the opera, in plain 
clothes! It was easy to recognize the dreaded General 
Haxo! 

Leaning over our barrier, I was astonished when the 
gentleman in mufti moved on past our box, greeting 
General Zastrow most warmly as he walked by the open 
arch! But, his eyes were glued upon the noble face of 
the woman whom I had sworn to shield from harm. 
Trepoff’s mysterious love! It was our official visitor who 
had missed Hermione, and whose repeated inquiries had 
piqued and frightened Serge Zastrow. As he talked 


174 


FOR HER LIFE. 


with the old General he gazed fixedly at Hermione with 
that cool smile which is an insult! He faintly smiled as 
he passed us. I could have struck him dead in his tracks ! 
But, this brute had the power to arrest, to detain, to be- 
tray! I whispered to General Zastrow, preserving my 
calmness: “Who is that man? Is it not General Haxo?” 
My friend’s brow grew gloomy. He leaned to me and 
softly said, “Yes! Do not let him observe us! For you 
know he is the Chief of the Military Police! And, he has 
asked me to present him to your beautiful sister, whom 
he is very eager to know!” My blood chilled to ice. 
He, then, was unremitting on our path. His cruel, lurk- 
ing smile seemed to threaten me as he eyed me coldly. 
Its every line said, “Beware!” — and as I followed his 
path afar, I could see him turn, with a glance as if of 
eager triumph, and it seemed to rest on the mysterious 
beauty, as if to say: “You are my prey!” 

Hermione, fortunately, did not see him! The second 
act of the opera was now under way. I soon tired of the 
motley scene! My worry and heartache returned. My 
soul was far away — in America. I craved flight! The 
stage wearied me; my eyes roved discreetly now and then 
towards the box of the Czar. 

I was looking idly at the glittering throng behind their 
Imperial Majesties when I saw a tall, dark, worn looking 
officer, in the uniform of a cavalry general, fastening his 
gaze with unmistakable interest on Hermione. It was 
the strange General I had seen in the sleigh — Haxo’s 
fellow wolf! Something told me the hour had come at 
last! It became a positive fixed glare, for Hermione was 
now facing the stage, and was very intent on the music. 
She would have to make a half turn to see the circle of 
high functionaries and ladies in the Imperial loge! And 
I begged of Fortune that she might still hide her beauti- 
ful face. He evidently waited for her wandering glance 
to turn at last in his direction. Now a “bird of ill omen,” 
General Haxo appeared at his side in a few moments! 
They were evidently conversing about us. Significant 
glances showed this. And my fears told me so. At last, 
at last. 

My heart was beating fast! I was glued to the pillory 


FOR HER LIFE. 


175 


and feared to warn Hermione ! There was no help ! No 
escape! We were trapped! Desiring, however, to pre- 
pare her for any sudden shock, I said, in an undertone, to 
Captain Zastrow: “Tell me, Serge, do you know that 
Cavalry officer near the Royal Box? Have we not seen 
him before?” 

He took a furtive glance and then quietly said, with an 
air of positive aversion : 

“Yes! He’s a so-called ‘loyal Pole’ — an aristocratic 
scoundrel! A kind of a useful military renegade!” 

Hermione started. Serge could not see her face! But 
she was now alarmed, and yet she did not turn around! 
She feared some danger! He calmly continued: 

“There’s an ugly story about that fellow! He’s been 
banished from Court, on distant duty, for several years! 
I looked his record up! The story is around the clubs 
even, and only officials consort with him!” 

Hermione’s face was now drawn and rigid! I began 
to fear for the consequences, and I recognized her wis- 
dom in the tactics — “eyes to the front!” Serge, uncon- 
sciously, went on, as if he were under some spell. 

“He killed a gallant Polish nobleman named Count 
Oborski in a cowardly duel some years ago. He fired 
before the word, the low cur!” 

Hermione started, and became ashy pale. I feared to 
breathe or speak. The stranger was now persistently and 
insolently waiting to catch her eye. 

“His name is ‘Alexis Radzivill!’” concluded Serge, “of 
our Asian army.” And, as he ceased, my poor Her- 
mione’s fan crushed in her trembling hands. Like a 
drooping lily, her head then softly fell back helpless. I 
knew the curse had fallen. It was the dreaded hour! 
Serge gazed at me in a wild dismay. “My God! the crisis 
has come at last!” And this was what I whispered to' 
Serge: “We are lost unless we leave here quietly at 
once! — now! Help me with Hermione!” Thank heaven, 
she heard my voice, and rose at once to her feet. I made 
a stern sign to Trepoff, who now stepped towards our 
box; for, as the curtain was falling, Serge and I assisted 
the half-fainting woman to the corridor of the ladies’ 
gallery. “A little air and movement!” Serge whispered. 


174 


FOR HER LIFE. 


with the old General he gazed fixedly at Hermione with 
that cool smile which is an insult! He faintly smiled as 
he passed us. I could have struck him dead in his tracks ! 
But, this brute had the power to arrest, to detain, to be- 
tray! I whispered to General Zastrow, preserving my 
calmness: “Who is that man? Is it not General Haxo?” 
My friend’s brow grew gloomy. He leaned to me and 
softly said, “Yes! Do not let him observe us! For you 
know he is the Chief of the Military Police ! And, he has 
asked me to present him to your beautiful sister, whom 
he is very eager to know!” My blood chilled to ice. 
He, then, was unremitting on our path. His cruel, lurk- 
ing smile seemed to threaten me as he eyed me coldly. 
Its every line said, “Beware!” — and as I followed his 
path afar, I could see him turn, with a glance as if of 
eager triumph, and it seemed to rest on the mysterious 
beauty, as if to say: “You are my prey!” 

Hermione, fortunately, did not see him! The second 
act of the opera was now under way. I soon tired of the 
motley scene! My worry and heartache returned. My 
soul was far away — in America. I craved flight! The 
stage wearied me; my eyes roved discreetly now and then 
towards the box of the Czar. 

I was looking idly at the glittering throng behind their 
Imperial Majesties when I saw a tall, dark, worn looking 
officer, in the uniform of a cavalry general, fastening his 
gaze with unmistakable interest on Hermione. It was 
the strange General I had seen in the sleigh — Haxo’s 
fellow wolf! Something told me the hour had come at 
last! It became a positive fixed glare, for Hermione was 
now facing the stage, and was very intent on the music. 
She would have to make a half turn to see the circle of 
high functionaries and ladies in the Imperial loge! And 
I begged of Fortune that she might still hide her beauti- 
ful face. He evidently waited for her wandering glance 
to turn at last in his direction. Now a “bird of ill omen,” 
General Haxo appeared at his side in a few moments! 
They were evidently conversing about us. Significant 
glances showed this. And my fears told me so. At last, 
at last. 

My heart was beating fast! I was glued to the pillory 


FOR HER LIFE. 


175 


and feared to warn Hermione! There was no help! No 
escape! We were trapped! Desiring, however, to pre- 
pare her for any sudden shock, I said, in an undertone, to 
Captain Zastrow: “Tell me, Serge, do you know that 
Cavalry officer near the Royal Box? Have we not seen 
him before?” 

He took a furtive glance and then quietly said, with an 
air of positive aversion: 

“Yes! He’s a so-called ‘loyal Pole’ — an aristocratic 
scoundrel! A kind of a useful military renegade!” 

Hermione started. Serge could not see her face! But 
she was now alarmed, and yet she did not turn around! 
She feared some danger! He calmly continued: 

“There’s an ugly story about that fellow! He’s been 
banished from Court, on distant duty, for several years! 
I looked his record up! The story is around the clubs 
even, and only officials consort with him!” 

Hermione’s face was now drawn and rigid! I began 
to fear for the consequences, and I recognized her wis- 
dom in the tactics — “eyes to the front!” Serge, uncon- 
sciously, went on, as if he were under some spell. 

“He killed a gallant Polish nobleman named Count 
Oborski in a cowardly duel some years ago. He fired 
before the word, the low cur!” 

Hermione started, and became ashy pale. I feared to 
breathe or speak. The stranger was now persistently and 
insolently waiting to catch her eye. 

“His name is ‘Alexis Radzivill!’ ” concluded Serge, “of 
our Asian army.” And, as he ceased, my poor Her- 
mione’s fan crushed in her trembling hands. Like a 
drooping lily, her head then softly fell back helpless. I 
knew the curse had fallen. It was the dreaded hour! 
Serge gazed at me in a wild dismay. “My God! the crisis 
has come at last!” And this was what I whispered to 
Serge: “We are lost unless we leave here quietly at 
once! — now! Help me with Hermione!” Thank heaven, 
she heard my voice, and rose at once to her feet. I made 
a stern sign to Trepoff, who now stepped towards our 
box; for, as the curtain was falling, Serge and I assisted 
the half-fainting woman to the corridor of the ladies’ 
gallery. “A little air and movement!” Serge whispered. 


176 


FOR HER LIFE. 


“Be brave now, my poor friend. Think of Trepoff!” “I 
am feeling better,” she whispered, ‘‘and would fain turn 
back!” 

“Shall we go home now?” said I, anxiously. “Can we 
two not escape?” 

“Oh! no!” she hastily murmured, “I must not break up 
the party! I would not dare to! We must face the 
worst, — the very worst, — now!” 

We walked to the end of the long gallery. A glass of 
cordial and a few moments’ quiet restored Hermione. 
Trepoff had remained with Vera to prevent remark. No 
one had seemed to notice the seizure. “I can go in now 
and stay with Vera,” said she, as she graciously thanked 
the manly, kindly Serge for his aid. He was deeply con- 
cerned, and I was at the end of Hope! We were all ris- 
ing to return to our party when General Alexis Radzivill 
walked directly toward us. His face wore an impudent 
leer. What had Fate in store? My brain whirled. Ah! 
God! to be in America — only face to face — with this dis- 
turber! I thought of Col. Colt’s six-barreled law! 

Hermione sat like a statue, gazing blankly at the wall. 
Radzivill bowed formally to Serge, who must recognize 
the uniform, and paused. This was Haxo’s “coup de 
main!” I saw the whole scheme, — an insult, a row, ar- 
rest, detection! The coward! 

“Pardon!” said he, directing his address to Serge, “I 
believe I have met Lieutenant, — or is it Captain? — Zas- 
trow before! Will you excuse me a moment?” Serge 
bowed and stepped a few paces away with him. I 
watched over my poor, trembling charge. At the sound 
of that voice Hermione trembled in fear, and I was now 
doubly anxious to see her safe from further interruption 
in our box. We moved away. If I could only reach our 
friends, and warn Trepoff! A presentiment of dark evil 
hung over me. I waited for Serge, who was exchanging 
a few evidently animated words with Radzivill. My brain 
reeled. They were quite in earnest, and I foresaw an in- 
stant trouble. The attitudes were menacing. Serge sud- 
denly turned and strode up to me. “Quick! — quick!” he 
cried. “Take your sister back to the box at once and stay 
there,” whispered he, quickly. “Send Trepoff here! 


FOR her life. 


m 


Hurry! at once! — for your life!” But Hennione’s quick 
ear caught it. I motioned. Instantly her lips were com- 
pressed in silence. As we walked away, I then heard a 
sneering voice distinctly say, in French: 

“Ask her if she remembers Arline Lazienska.” “Great 
Heavens!” murmured “my sister,” as she clung to me in 
fear. I felt her trembling now like a leaf in the storm. 
I hastened back to the box with her and instantly re- 
turned with Trepoff. I asked Vera to aid Hermione, for 
I would join them soon. All was apparently peaceful. 
Still, the two men debated. Trepoff and I hurried at once 
to the end of the corridor. The two men were there, 
and the tide was rising fast! A bloody floodtide to bear 
some one away! As we approached, they had passed 
swiftly into the gentlemen’s corridor. We followed. It 
seemed to be a common impulse to gain new ground. I 
whispered, “Trouble with Radzivill.” “Great God! what 
about?” said Trepoff, with an anxious brow. “He’s a 
mean devil!” “I don’t know,” was my reply. “I can’t im- 
agine.” Trepoff’s face grew stony. We stepped into one 
of several private rooms. Radzivill had motioned to a 
passing friend, who now joined him. The plot thickened! 
The door was at once closed. We all remained standing, 
and an ominous hush was broken by the Pole. “Gentle- 
men!” said Radzivill, his voice trembling with the mad- 
dest passion, “I have asked Captain Zastrow to answer a 
polite formal question. He declined to answer, and will 
give no reason! I am accustomed to, and insist on, all 
the deference of my grade and rank. I now demand a 
categorical reply!” The hush was of the moment before 
the tornado. All scented danger. Serge was pale and 
stern. He stood there like a bronze figure. Gallant and 
loyal, I loved him for his manly bravery. “I absolutely 
decline to answer,” said Serge, coldly; his blue eye flash- 
ing. “And, to explain?” continued Radzivill, his rage now 
mastering him. “Positively!” said the naval officer, 
with a grim decision. “Vous etes un lache,” hissed Radzi- 
vill, overborne with mad hatred. “Compliments of Obor- 
ski,” said Serge, in a thrilling voice, as he laid his open 
lingers smartly in a stinging blow on the insulter’s cheek. 
It was done! And the code,— Death,-— blood for a blow! 

12 


178 


FOR HER LIFE. 


All was lost! And, perhaps Serge doomed to butchery! 
All rushed between. I thought of the laughing Vera. 
My God! it was horrible. “Gentlemen! Desist!” cried 
every one. “This blow calls for a different satisfaction;” 
— for all seemed to feel this would go on now to the side 
of an open grave. 

Radzivill raged in the grasp of his friend, in vain. Di- 
mitri Trepoff was very stately as he said calmly, standing 
with flashing eyes between the two men, “Enough, Serge ! 
You are in my hands!” “Let me act now!” Serge quiet- 
ly handed Trepoff his card case. The nearest friend of 
the crazed General bowed to Dimitri in all his semi-pro- 
fessional gravity. Radzivill was half -led, half-dragged, to 
the end of the room. We stood motionless. Nothing 
but a fight a Foutrance was now before Serge! His op- 
ponent’s friend approached, and politely lifting his hat, 
said, with due ceremony: “Major Trepoff, permit me a 
single word! I fully represent General Radzivill!” 

They retired apart, as I bent my eyes sadly on the Cap- 
tain. I thought of the girl with the flower-like face, — 
his promised bride, — Vera! Serge opened not his lips; 
but his eye was as steady as the pole star. The two am- 
bassadors soon separated. Explanation or any apology 
was out of the question. The grim code of Draco bound 
both men, — the laws of honor! Trepoff returned grave- 
ly to our side of the room, and reported. “Serge,” said 
he, “the terms are to be pistols, ten paces ; the time one 
o’clock to-night; the place, the Riding academy. He de- 
mands immediate satisfaction, and a fight a Foutrance! 
It is terrible! What shall I do?” 

“Very well!” said Serge, in a hollow voice. “Agree to 
all!” 

“Can I ask the reason of all this?” I began. But of 
what avail were words now? 

The young Captain quietly laid his hand on my arm. 
“Not a moment to lose! We will return to the box. 
Trepoff, and I will leave on pretense of orders and go to 
the Yacht club. This may save all yet!” He finished, 
“You take the ladies home and join us there! We will 
go direct to the academy, if you can’t be back there at 
twelve! Follow us out there! Not a word to the ladies! 


FOR HER LIFE. 


179 


It is imperative!” Gallant fellow! I clasped Serge’s hand 
as he firmly walked to the door, lifting his hat with freez- 
ing politeness as he left the room. The silence was un- 
broken. The enemy were gathered around their man! I 
never turned my head to see Radzivill. I saw too much! 
I saw the shadow of Death, and I scented the air of a 
prison, too! 

“Dimitri,” said Serge, quietly, “all I ask is you will 
watch that scoundrel, in shooting too quick on the word ! 
That’s his pet trick!” The Captain was firm as a rock. 

“I’ll kill him in his tracks, if he fires a shade in ad- 
vance!” said the intrepid Trepoff, who adored Serge with 
a personal affection, heightened by their relationship. 
We neared the box in quiet. All was peace, and the 
music rose in undisturbed sweetness. The play was un- 
real to us now. A grim game waited. 

“Grahame!” said Serge, “Dimitri will have all my let- 
ters for Vera. You know what to do. We leave at once. 
You are a man of heart.” I bent my head to veil a mist 
on my eyes. 

I allowed the gentlemen to enter our loge first. The 
ladies were all perfectly calm and the curtain was up. 
As I walked along the corrdior I saw General Haxo im- 
movable at the door of the Emperor’s box. The Radzi- 
vill party had not returned. Serge and Trepoff soon fin- 
ished their whispered words of explanation to the ladies. 
I saw the young sailor silently take Vera’s bouquet and 
single out one rose. My heart swelled up, for the wo- 
man he loved did not know he would face death with it 
on his heart. With smiling eyes, she whispered, in her 
girlish tenderness, as the sweet tyrant of his loyal heart. 
“Don’t be late for the supper, Serge. Remember!” 
“Duty, you know, dearest,” he said in a low thrilling 
tone, as he returned the flowers, which were his gift. “I’ll 
return as soon as I can.” “Please God, very soon. Amen!” 
I prayed, for I was tied down as a guardian. Again my 
ignorance of the language paralyzed me. Her soft eyes 
were tenderly fixed on him as he bowed himself out, and 
he gazed upon her as if in a last good-bye. Brave cham- 
pion of our unknown! Vera was all unconscious of his 
peril. “It is better so,” I murmured, “if it must be!” 


180 


FOR HER LIFE. 


Hermione graciously gazed with a loving interest on 
“our gallant cousin !” She knew not the culmination; 
but the look she bent on him would have thrilled a heart 
of stone. A message without words! 

The gentlemen spoke to our party in the next box and 
muttered a few words to old General Zastrow as they de- 
parted. I could see the mute farewell of the gallant sailor 
going to the combat, and it wrung my heart; for Serge 
cast one fond look back at his beloved Vera, as he stood 
in the corridor, and then pressed the rose to his lips. 
They were gone ! It was now ten o’clock. I exchanged 
meaning glances with Hermione, who was now eagerly 
longing for our departure ; and we were not disturbed by 
General Haxo, nor the insulting Pole. My warning eyes 
said, “Silence!” Hers answered, “Yes!” The music 
grandly swelled out, but its melodies floated away all un- 
heeded by me. What was the real basis of this quarrel? 
What grim old secret! For this scoundrel had recognized 
the woman who was yet a stranger to me. My sister! I 
felt that it was instigated by Radzivill and concerted with 
the artful Haxo. For what immediate reason? Ah! that I 
could not tell. But I would have given my right arm to 
read that cold, impassive fiend’s thoughts, standing si- 
lently there at his masters door! It is well that we are 
not prophets; for it at least defers heartbreak. But one 
pivot had I for a theory. It was this : Haxo was surely 
aware our passports had been legally visad for our de- 
parture. Did he wish to delay us? WJiy? He could not 
efface the visas, I knew. The lists of departures for the 
use of the Police Bureau, though, were on his desk al- 
ways. He knew our growing intimacy with the Komar- 
offs. Serge was now known to be the fiance now of the 
lovely Countess Vera Komaroff. A last resort! To in- 
volve Serge in a serious duel would probably complicate 
us all, and would perhaps enable our arrests to be made. 
But was Radzivill a General willing to risk his life to 
please another man — to further his intrigues? “But why 
entangle Serge? To officially disgrace him — a popular 
and valiant officer? Why?” 

A stroke of mother wit enlightened me. Haxo was de- 
termined to run Hermione down. Radzivill knew some 


FOR HER LIFE. 


181 


old episode of her life. And who thirsted for Serge’s 
blood? Only that now happy she-devil Felise Dauvray! 
For, all the world knew Serge was accepted. It would 
revenge her wrongs! She had seen Serge’s affection 
transferred to Vera, and her own blind jealousy of Her- 
mione was now changed to hatred of the beloved little 
Countess. Here lay the truth ! And yet, what bound her 
to Haxo, the head soldier policeman? Was he a fa- 
vored secret lover — a patron? She had posted Haxo on 
Serge’s intended trip with us, and Radzivill, despised and 
hated by all the Russian nobles, was probably a higher 
government spy ! And a fair duel would clear his name 
in the clubs. A man can be brave, and a scoundrel, too! 
His price for removing Serge was oblivion of the old 
Oborski record. Yes! yes! it was clear! Haxo would 
shield him, if he killed the sailor. The fire-eating duellist 
Radzivill had not noticed me, but had forced himself 
rudely on Captain Zastrow. I was the lady’s escort! Ah! 
he could not speak to me. It would be cold murder to 
kill me. So we were clear officially, and this dark plan 
was the only one. Scandal would result from the meet- 
ing. If Serge’s name were coupled with that of some 
doubtful woman, it might break off this splendid Komar- 
off match. True, this exposed Hermione! Arch fiend! 
It gave Haxo power over the woman he desired, and re- 
venged the governess. I did not dare warn General Zas- 
trow as to the Dauvray trollop, till I was safely out of 
Russia with Hermione. Impossible! But I swore that 
he should know all! Justine could have Commodore 
Zastrow warn the old hero. My client’s interests and my 
dear Madeleine now returned to me. If 1 were thrown in 
prison, then, what of both? In cold agony, I thought of 
Durand’s words and the black crosses against the names 
of government spies. I prayed for the requital of the 
smiling French governess spy, — for spy she was! “How 
long, oh Lord, how long!'’ I groaned under this new bur- 
den. A serious wound to Serge — his death — would tie us 
up indefinitely. This she-devil would pay yet a price of 
fearful cost for her iniquity, I again swore; for detention 
meant the detection of my innocent passive fraud, and 
oh! my God, the death of Hermione, or her shame! She 


182 


FOR HER LIFE. 


could not be struck till after our departure. The Dauv- 
ray woman was safe until our ruin incited revenge. The 
burning, senseless, maddening desire inspired by Serge’s 
desertion was now bending all her wicked craft to one 
end. For his ever drifting into her hands, after the Ko- 
maroff match was thus broken off, was too wild a possi- 
bility, even for French love dreams. Could she worm 
herself into such an ancient and loyal family as a police 
spy, however, her field of usefulness would be extended! 
Was she a paid spy? The moments dragged slowly by, 
and, thank God, all was tranquil with us. On the next 
fall of the curtain the whole Imperial party arose, and 
then, led by General Haxo, departed grandly by the 
state entrance. Society was now free to “follow suit.” 
Policy caused the great ones to leave before the last act; 
for no danger in the confusion could attend this digni- 
fied flitting forth. The national anthem was played as 
the cortege swept down through double lines of guards- 
men to the state entrance. No one could press on the 
royal visitors in any crush, under these wise rules. Many 
grand nobles and the families of the highest distinction 
gradually departed after their master. They had been 
noted on parade, and were glad to go. The rising of the 
imperial family was the signal for numbers bidden to pre- 
viously arranged suppers and other home social events, 
to seek these new pleasures when released from their 
patriotic duty; for the sun had veiled itself. “Society’s” 
loyalty had been vouched for in a general welcome of the 
Czar by those who glittered in the light of imperial favor 
— the happy moths of a court day. We also rose, and in 
the foyer, met Madame Komaroff, who had joined Count 
Mouravieff’s family in their loge. The Count and Coun- 
tess graciously greeted us. He was most cordial to me. 
He said, “I’ll send you down the letters to Gourko early 
to-morrow!” He evidently knew of my action on his 
hint. Hermione’s beauty was also flattered by him. “She 
is peerless — your sister!” the General whispered. “Take 
good care of her!” I started, for my mind was tortured 
with the impending event. It was now after eleven 
o’clock. Flow could I reach the Yacht club by twelve? 
How could I steal away, and not expose Vera to an 


FOR HER LIFE. 


183 


agony of fear? I could not confer with Hermione; we 
were still acting out the deceitful part which had enabled 
her to escape the dangers of her perilous mission so far. 
But of what avail our plans, if Serge were shot, and a 
general arrest followed? But at what cost we had plotted 
to depart. The worst was yet to come; and the burden 
bore heavily on us both. Would the day of deliverance 
ever “arrive?” Hermione feared a shadowed past — Rad- 
zivill’s stories. I feared a dungeon. In our turn we all 
re-entered our sleighs. The flying coursers skimmed 
away over the snow with highest speed. I was half- 
crazed as I thought of Zastrow facing a dead shot’s mur- 
derous pistol. All was tranquil as we assembled in the 
grand salon at home. The ladies were merry, and all un- 
conscious of any shadow on the Barmecide feast pre- 
pared. Every second now might ring out a death knell ! 
Ah! my beautiful sister Hermione read the secret of my 
paled face and shuddered in silence. She knew General 
Zastrow’s eyes too gravely sought mine. I persistently 
avoided him. I could not explain. He would know soon 
enough. He knew that some social trouble had called 
his kinsmen away. The supper was announced by the 
butler. Mademoiselle Felise Dauvray entered the salon 
“en grande toilette.” It was with the cool assurance of a 
Grande Duchesse. Evidently she was blossoming out. 
It occurred to me she had the rule of the whole house, in 
our absence. What was her real game? She was in- 
scrutable. Calm, polite, and self-restrained, her “self- 
effacement” was guided by nerves of steel and a high- 
class conventional elegance. I was afraid of her calmly 
triumphant appearance, and her festal robes. I deter- 
mined to search my rooms at once and see if any traces of 
her unwelcome presence were visible ; for I doubted all — 
feared all — now. Capable of anything was that sleek 
young French woman! The ladies lamented the absence 
of our two preux chevaliers. I smiled, while each pulse 
throb sounded to me as a death knell. This chorus of re- 
grets was interrupted by the arrival of a messenger, who 
asked for me. He sent into me an urgent letter. I hate 
lying above all things, and I had to lie meanly as I ex- 
cused myself. In the hall I shuddered as I glanced at 


184 


FOR HER LIFE. 


my watch. Could I be of any use? Would I be able to 
excuse myself? — and on what pretext? My serious face 
I could not hide, and it was twenty minutes past eleven ! 
Alas, useless, now ! I must decide whether to go or stay. 
I burned to go. If I did it would surely betray the un- 
usual. I debated with myself as I read the note in the 
anteroom. Would to God I could be at Welctsky’s side! 
And how I suffered in my helplessness. I was touched 
at heart. Delicate-minded Serge enclosed a note for the 
young goddess Vera. His every moment was precious 
to his nerve and calmness. His last words were penned, 
perhaps, to his love! I closed my hand in reverence on 
it. Dimitri Trepoff wrote me, briefly, his own directions. 
“Deliver Serge’s note openly! We go out there now. I 
will not object to advancing the time; fight as soon as 
ready; he will be still excited. Hope for the best. Say 
we will join you later. Keep Vera quiet and happy till we 
come. I will come myself or send a friend who goes 
with us for that purpose if Serge is hurt. Look out for 
Vera if grave results happen. Come where I send for you 
then. Stay at the supper and keep silent. Depend on 
me.” Trepoff.” 

I composed my tell-tale face, and then re-entered the 
salon, and handed Countess Vera the little note with a 
friendly and confidential air. Ah! the dear rosy trifler! 
How carelessly she gayly laughed and said, with a “moue 
mutine,” “We will not wait longer for our gentlemen! 
They will come at the end of the feast, and they both beg 
us not to wait.” So the “sister” whom Fate had given 
me was forced to laugh and smile while her champion 
faced death for her! “Half-past eleven” the silver gong 
of the old clock rang out. We sat down to the magnifi- 
cent supper. General Zastrow devoted himself to the 
Madame Komaroff, and I heard ringing always in my 
ears the last injunction of Serge, — “Take care of Vera!” 
I stole an occasional glance at my watch, as with laughter 
and merry allusions to the absent, the supper proceeded. 
I was in a mute agony. The game for a human life — 
perhaps two men’s lives — was being played out! One 
relief! Questions were not asked; for the service of the 


FOR HER LIFE. 


186 

Czar may at any time take the bridegroom from the very 
altar. The summons may not be gainsaid an instant. 
The Emperor has the right to instant and implicit obedi- 
ence — women's arms unwind from husband or lover, 
without a sigh! The sweet, laughing-eyed Vera com- 
plained to me of Serge’s defection. “A deserter! a de- 
serter!” she gayly cried, when, in the round of toasts, his 
name was on our lips, in fond trifling, which grated hor- 
ribly on my ears! Twelve rang out from the silver chimes 
of the great sculptured hall clock. Hermione’ s face was 
drawn and chilled as if cut in frozen marble. She, too, 
was on the rack. I shuddered in silence. Every instant 
now was, perhaps, that of the fatal word. No one sus- 
pected that it was a night of doom — this gala night! The 
great halls of the Cavalry Riding School were but a few 
minutes’ drive from the Yacht club. Trepoff would not 
long delay. Laughter, light and love around the board! 
Hermione was busied forcing the merriment, while her 
anxious heart was breaking; vivacious Madame Komar- 
off sat happy, charming the whole circle with her witty 
sallies; lovely Vera vainly demanding her absent lover; 
sweet Olga proud of her opera night, fretting for her 
best friends, the owners of the two vacant chairs at this 
strange feast; and myself, harassed, heart-sick, fear- 
ful of the night, apprehensive of the morrow, and now 
feeling every tick of the clock in my bosom. Ah! what a 
tragi-comedy of social life! Dancing on the ice over the 
volcano’s crater! And a strange gloom crept into our 
circle at last. Half-past twelve! General Zastrow re- 
luctantly gave the signal to return to the salon. We filed 
in, a happy troop, and the protesting little Olga was 
haled away by the gray-eyed French Venus. On Vera’s 
entreaties, Madame Komaroff accorded another half- 
hour of waiting. Music was an excuse to cover our 
watching for the two wanderers. In a mysterious way, 
the fear of the unusual had dropped a general shadow 
over us. Hermione had just seated herself at the piano, 
when a loud crash of bells at the door proved that a 
sleigh had suddenly stopped, from the highest flight of 
speed, in front. We all started up, and a general look of 
alarmed inquiry betrayed our souls to each other. Even 


186 


FOR HER LIFE. 


old General Zastrow was anxious now! I exchanged 
glances with the host, and reached the hall, closing the 
salon door as Hermione’s grand voice rang out thrilling 
on my ear. It was a time of terrible mental tension! I 
feared the tidings. I ‘would prevent, at all hazards, any 
sudden blow to the dear girl, whose heart was only open 
now to the chivalric sailor lover. The great front por- 
tals swung wide and a man sprang within. It was Trep- 
off, ghastly pale, and the snowflakes lightly powdering 
his garb; but he stood there, alone! My heart ceased 
beating, for his eyes were inscrutable. One warning 
glance! He pressed a finger on his lip, and darted back 
into the dark anteroom. I sprang in after him and closed 
the door. “Serge!” I gasped. “Safe!” he cried. “A bad 
flesh wound; ball glanced off the ribs; now at Yacht 
club!” was the rapid reply. My heart leaped up in joy. 
“I must tell them, now,” he gravely said. I saw the 
shadow of death on his face. “Radzivill!” I gloomily 
ejaculated, as I caught my breath. Trepoff placed his 
index finger on the central spot of his forehead. He 
simply said, “Killed at the first fire! Serge aimed right 
between his eyes!” He dropped into a chair. “That 
broke Radzivill’s nerve!” he muttered — and then cov- 
ered his face with his hands. The scoundrel was dead at 
last! Merry voices floating out to us! The music had 
abruptly ceased! A sudden invasion of the laughing la- 
dies would be next in order. They would all gayly storm 
our citadel. What should we say? More forced deceit! 
I was tired of this lying. I sprang to the door. Trepoff 
spoke. “Wait! For God’s sake, get the old General here 
quietly! This house is now surrounded by the police! 
Quick!” Oh! God! the sword had fallen. I crossed the 
hall, and General Zastrow quietly joined me. I pointed 
to the door, and re-entered, gazing at the stern-faced 
Major. “Tell all the ladies that Serge will be back in 
the morning. He has gone down to Cronstadt, on a spe- 
cial boat — sudden orders. I’ll come in a minute!” cried 
Trepoff. I fulfilled my mission and then excused my- 
self for a moment. The ladies awaited Dimitri with 
some impatience, but no alarm. For, love is blind and 
happy until the sword of Fate pierces the heart. I re- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


187 


turned and found that General Zastrow knew of the duel, 
not suspecting the cause. He was collecting his thoughts. 
A strange event! Still he was an old soldier — and ready 
— aye ready. So far, good. But the police! What 
was their mission? They had, perhaps, been notified by 
Radzivill’s seconds, or through him by Haxo. It was “in 
the Czar’s name” — this cordon at night. Yes, undoubt- 
edly General Haxo had sent the detail to guard the house 
on news of the fatal result. He had been able to ex- 
change a few words at the opera, perhaps, with the Polish 
spy. And, was this a revenge for Serge Zastrow’s fatal 
shot, — the tribute to his departed tool? Thank God, 
Zastrow was safe ! The deadly ball had glanced on a rib 
and run around into the back muscles. . But what would 
be the consequences of Captain Serge’s victorious shot! 
A fatal triumph? Old Michael Zastrow had taken his 
parti. No time to explain now. He did not wish to 
needlessly alarm his pet Vera. He also wished to avoid 
any public scandal. He joined the ladies calmly; for, in 
the higher circles of the Russian services, duels, while re- 
grettable, are considered unavoidable. He knew too 
well the police were only “on observation;” for other- 
wise they would have entered the mansion at their own 
sweet will. I breathed freer. Serge had not mentioned 
the cause of the quarrel in detail to Trepoff. So far all 
was safe! Lovely Hermione’s lover had no intimation 
of the implied slander of her past. The cold scorn of the 
high Russian nobility for the dead Radzivill was caused 
originally by his treachery to the land which bore him, 
and then his cowardly assassination of Count Oborski, in 
a presumably fair duello. But it was all over with the 
bold villain now. He lay in a lonely store-room of the 
cavalry barracks, prone and stiff in death, — a handker- 
chief hiding the shattered forehead and a common sol- 
dier’s gray overcoat thrown over him! For, friends and 
Fortune had departed with his lost usefulness! 

A couple of careless Cossack sentinels stolidly watched 
the three candles blinking around his stiffening form. 
It was a tragic end,— a lonely last night of life! His 
friends had gone to report to his circle, and to make the 


188 


FOR HER LIFE. 


needed report as seconds with regard to the details of the 
fight. 

We rose at last. Trepoff said, ‘‘Speak not a word! 
Let me talk to the family !” Crossing the great hall, we 
joined the wearied ladies. General Zastrow, Madame 
Komaroff, with earnest eyes, were communing seriously 
in the front salon corner. They had seen too many of 
these social differences end in blood. Hermione and 
Vera welcomed Trepoff, who was gayly led up to the 
table. And, the little comedy now pieced out the hidden 
tragedy. Outwardly pleasant, and unmoved, the Major 
eagerly refreshed himself with a welcome bit of supper, 
and then, explained plausibly the absence of the tardy 
lover. There was no sign of sorrow within the salon, or 
disturbance without the house. I sat quiet, after tele- 
graphing to Hermione that all was well. She joined me 
at my side of the table in a few moments, and I then, drew 
her away in a window embrasure, briefly telling her the 
facts, for gay little Countess Vera was still chattering 
grand opera. My listener’s mobile face froze in a sud- 
den horror when I told her Radzivill was dead. “So soon 
— vengeance to overtake his lying insult, and by Serge’s 
hand! What will become of Captain Zastrow?” she 
feebly questioned as she sat down. The sudden removal 
of her mortal fear proved to me that he was the one man 
feared. But, what did General Haxo know? “There will 
be an investigation, as a matter of form,” I replied. “It 
being a fair duel, I suppose Radzivill’s death will not be 
followed up very severely, as he forced the quarrel. He 
was an object of aversion. Duels are only allowed here to 
pass easily by between officers. They are held to support 
their honor. With civilians, there is little sympathy. The 
police are watching the house now,” said I. “I suppose 
they want to know where Serge is!” Alas! I had for- 
gotten that he would merely be arrested on his parole of 
honor, pending an inquiry. I was hoodwinked. “Let us 
go to our rooms,” replied Hermione, who now felt the 
heavy burden of the waiting ordeal of the morrow. Or, 
would Haxo linger! We had not long to wait. Alas! 
there was the last turn of the screw awaiting us in a new 
torture. 


FOR HER LIFE. 


189 


General Zastrow had skillfully persuaded Madame la 
Comtesse Komaroff and her lovely child to the belief that 
the Captain had been ordered on some special secret 
duty. He cheerily said, “You will hear from him to- 
morrow! It will not delay your departure beyond one 
extra day!” Sallying forth to reconnoitre, he was not 
stopped on going out. So I breathed freer; for, per- 
haps, the police watch was only a formal show to effect 
Captain Zastrow’s technical arrest. The old General 
wished, naturally, to avoid all publicity. He would, of 
course, appeal to the Emperor for his cousin’s pardon at 
once. The duel was a deliberately forced one. As to 
Zastrow fighting, it was a case of “noblesse oblige,” and 
the honor of the navy. The unlucky opera party at last 
broke up. Trepoff whispered to me meaningly, “Come 
up to my room by and by. I want to talk to you. I want 
to avoid spies and the servants.” I promised to do so; 
and before regaining our quarters, also, I agreed to have 
an early conference with the General and Trepoff in the 
library in the morning. “You see,” whispered Dimitri, 
“the Dauvray may watch you, — she has no reason to 
hate me. I have always been kind to her.” 

When the weary maid had left Hermione, I tapped at 
her door, — the privileges of a “brother,” a true “brother,” 
in misery ! 

“Come in,” she cried, and I glanced up and down the 
hall. No one in sight, I entered. She was seated by the 
window, gazing out on the blue Neva, with its thousand 
mirrored stars. I had warned her again about looking 
over her luggage, fearing always the French fiend’s 
treachery. I was expectant of some further meddling. 
I told her of my councils with the two gentlemen. “Cer- 
tainly, the house will be guarded until Captain Zastrow 
has been found. I think it is only a formality,” she hope- 
fully said. As she rested there in her furred gown, her 
slender hands clasped, and the fair head leaning back on 
the cushions, I said quietly, “Hermione! do you remem- 
ber Arline Lazienska?” It was the dead spy’s question. 
There was a world of tender pleading*, a woman s last ap- 
peal for confidence, as she steadily said, in a low tone 
turning her eyes to mine, as she held out the blue-veined 


190 


FOR HER LIFE. 


jeweled hand which had delivered the fatal ciphers. “Ah! 
yes! I do — I do! They called her once, in happier days 
than these, the Queen of the Forget-Me-Nots; but so 
long ago, the sad story is lost to me now!” — -and her 
words ended in a sob. I would not press my victory. I 
said no more, for a thrill of heart break was in her voice. 
I softly closed my door, with a kindly “Good night.” I 
pressed her hands. “To the death!” I murmured. I 
knew at last all the menacing bitterness of Radzivill’s 
sneer. He could have opened the gates of the past. Oh! 
to be over that fatal Russian border! 

With the dead man lying unburied, watched by men- 
ials, deserted by his friends, I still thanked God for the 
mercy of the fortunate accident which sent the ball from 
Serge’s pistol crashing through that cowardly devil’s 
head. Haxo was foiled! For, be Hermione now what 
folly had made her, she was yet a woman, and her beauty, 
her love, her life, was sacred to herself, and not rightly 
the spoil of the official roue. Trepoff told me all of the 
conflict as we smoked in his room when I joined him. 
They arrived at half-past eleven at the Riding hall, for 
Radzivill was madly impatient for his revenge. Entrance 
to the practice gallery was easy for the four aristocrats, 
to whom an enlisted man dared deny nothing. An army 
surgeon had been hastily summoned from the club, on 
agreement of the seconds. No one suspected the deadly 
errand. Iffit he well knew it was, as usual, some wo- 
man’s hand behind the two pistols. The old, old story — 
men do not fight for money; they only gamble for it. The 
parties had stiffly bowed on meeting. The two principals 
remained sternly mute, face to face ; and a couple of plain 
gray cavalry jackets gave them an equality in dress. 
Serge Zastrow fixed his steady eye on Radzivill as Dimitri 
pressed his hand in an agonizing farewell of brotherhood. 
“If we go, we go together,” slowly said Zastrow, “for, I 
know I shall strike him fair between the eyes. He shoots 
low.” The pistols in preparation, Trepoff tossed up for 
choice of weapons and the word, which last fell to Cap- 
tain Obransky, Radzivill’s second. Dimitri had quietly 
said to Obransky, as he took up an extra pistol be- 
fore them all, “I don’t wish to doubt you, Cap- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


191 


tain, but see that your man fires this time strictly 
on the word. If he should anticipate one hair, 
I will put a ball through his head! I mean 
what I say. Remember Oborski.” Radzivill started 
— as an echo of TrepofFs voice reached him. He knew 
too well the subject of that conference; for Dimitri’s face 
told the story. The Captain bowed in silence. The old 
scandal was too well known, and TrepofFs nerve was 
renowned. No man dared to quarrel on that past record; 
besides, the second was a loyal gentleman. 

A last formal appeal to each of the principals was an- 
swered by each with a cold bow. Silently both took their 
places. Dimitri Trepoff stood — like a lion at bay — glar- 
ing at “the man who shot too quick.” His heart followed 
the one, two, — and, at the word “Three,” both the pistols 
rang out together. Radzivill pitched up in the air, with- 
out a single groan; then, crashing down like a falling 
tree! Serge Zastrow had kept his word; for his meas- 
uring eye had broken the renegade’s nerve at last. Serge 
himself was thrown down by the shock of a ball. The 
surgeon, springing to him, noted the instant he opened 
the vest, from the bloodflow, that Zastrow’s lungs were 
not pierced; for there was no jet — it only flowed! Ah! 
those lucky ribs of elastic resistance. The ball had 
glanced. . The old doctor paid a brief visit of inspection 
to Radzivill’s corpse, for the handkerchief spread over its 
face by his second already told the story. “Raide mort!” 
he cried. This recital of TrepofFs ended, “Where is 
Serge?” I said. “Hidden at the Yacht club for the night!” 
was the answer. We agreed on the use of the whole 
Zastrow, Komaroff, and Mouravieff influence to smother 
the matter. Serge could be brought home in the morn- 
ing. I breathed freely, for I saw even Trepoff did not 
yet know the real cause of the duel! 

Loyal Zastrow! He deserved to win his own spirited 
darling! “Loyal en tout.” And so, we were now prob- 
ably free to leave Russia unchallenged. For the police 
presence was only a formal precaution. Yet, over me, 
as I laid my weary limbs to rest, was the hostile specter 
of General Haxo, — and in my dreams I saw Felise Dau- 


192 


FOR HER LIFE. 


vray pointing to the gloomy fortress beyond the Neva! 
For, from a prison window, I seemed to see Hermione 
a prisoner, dragged along between exultant guards! A 
night of weird visions ! 


CHAPTER VIII. 

THE SWORD FALLS! THE FALCON CAGED. 

Clanging bells awoke me early from a troubled sleep! 
The double windows were thick with crusted snow, — out- 
side a fleece of feathery flakes were falling silently — rapid- 
ly! The day was blue and dark! Yet it was a day of 
days to me! Our last day in St. Petersburg! For, the 
outward voyage was now safe! 

I was stirring betimes. Our situation called for the 
most decided action, — the coolest wisdom. It was neces- 
sary to leave that night! Serge, too, would be brought 
home soon. Further social display was impossible. I 
must say adieu to him here. To search and prepare my 
luggage, — to have a final interview with my lawyer asso- 
ciates, — and to depart quietly: after sending Trepoff to 
Count Mouravieff to acquaint him with all the details 
of the trouble was my rapidly-formed plan. And, to have 
Serge secretly post his little patrician fiancee as to the 
necessity for extra help now — and added caution. For 
he could not go. The powerful nobleman Mouravieff 
would at once smooth all matters for Serge. With Gen- 
eral Komaroff, he could cover me himself with the shad- 
ow of his wing till safe over the frontier! For Vera — 
bright darling — would be our guardian angel. Perhaps 
even go to the frontier herself. Hermione was still sleep- 
ing. I rang for coffee, and then sent a note down to 
General Zastrow to ask as to the police watch outside. I 
searched every piece of my baggage to see if anything 
had been disturbed. All was in perfect order. The Dau- 
vray had not meddled with me. Even Durand had con- 
cluded I was no longer a star performer. All was in or- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


193 


der! Had the game been played out when Radzivill died? 
The man returned with this note from my host: 

“Trepoff has gone away to bring Serge, if he can be 
safely moved. The police have all disappeared, save one 
or two agents on mere observation. Keep in your rooms 
till I send, — for I must appear to ignore this. Prepare all 
for your own departure to-night. Let your sister be 
ready early, too. I will come to you. I will see the Kom- 
aroff ladies; all is quieting down. I hope for the best. 
These duels are very soon forgotten here, — and, after all, 
Radzivill was a man of very cloudy record. 

“M. Z. 

This was certainly cheering! We might slip away un- 
noticed! My “sister” would be quite safe when once at 
Warsaw under the protection of General Komaroff. As 
soon as Hermione was off my hands, I would telegraph 
to Vienna to my waiting dear one, Madeleine. The whole 
circle had quietly accepted Hermione with open hearts 
as of my blood. Our quiet departure was the key to the 
whole situation! For all was forgotten in the general 
sympathy for Captain Zastrow. In a short time I heard 
the maid moving in Hermione’s room. 

As soon as the coffee tray had been brought in, then I 
knocked at the door. The halls were silent, and I could 
hear little Olga pounding away at her interminable scales 
on the piano. I knew Felise Dauvray was tied down 
there. My troublesome charge was all ready for my last 
directions. She, too, agreed in the advisability of all my 
plans! She was cautioned to make no careless remark to 
arouse the last suspicions of the Komaroffs, Madame 
Zastrow, — or to revive, by any slip, the lost Queen of 
F orget-Me-Nots. 

This unforseen circumstance of the duel was enough 
to warrant our instant departure in the general family 
interest. It was a relief to all. I would inform them that 
I proposed to have Justine leave Russia as soon as the 
season opened and visit us abroad, — for a time ! Business 
at the Department could wait its own grinding out now. 
My work was done. The evident suspicion in which our 

13 


194 


FOR HER LIFE. 


whole circle would be involved, justified any abruptness. 
For the quarrel at the opera must not be investigated. I 
might be a witness. 

Only when across the border could I cut the fatal ties 
which now bound up my honor and safety. The interests 
of all the Zastrows, and the peace of mind of my own 
dear ones were involved with Hermione’s impending fate! 
It was truly “one for all — and — all for one!” 

Hermione, with the help of her maid, was packing up 
all her many trunks and all her private belongings. I told 
her not to leave a single scrap of paper in her boxes. 
“Then we will have no trouble,” I said. I feared only 
papers! I returned to my room and busied myself in di- 
recting my man in my arrangements for leaving. It was a 
welcome task! From the windows, I could only see half- 
way across the mighty Neva, now a mingled mass of 
floating, rotten ice and dark, chilling waters! The navi- 
gation was all stopped. The winter was locking all up! 
The strongly-anchored boat bridge, too, would soon be 
swung to the banks for the winter. And, that ephem- 
eral “Devil’s Auction” be thrown open on the solid ice 
floor. A large sleigh drew up before the door, then fol- 
lowed a smaller one ! I gazed with a deep interest ! Oh ! 
To spring down the stairs and welcome him! I dared 
not! It was Serge and his party. Reclining on a mat- 
tress and enveloped in fur robes, he had been moved 
quite easily! One victory! To stay at the Yacht Club 
would, of course, set every tongue in the town smoothly 
wagging! No journalistic reference would be made in 
this town of repression. Our spreading any conjectures 
and rumors would also be dangerous to us all! Silence 
was golden here! I saw him carefully carried, lying on 
his couch, by four stout servants, up the stairs! And, so 
he was safe — on his own ground — near Vera! Dimitri 
and a friend also entered, — undoubtedly the army sur- 
geon. I could fancy Vera Komaroff’s sweet face leaning 
over him! Her gallant lover! The sleighs drove quietly 
away! So this was done in peace! And — the police had 
ignored all. No arrest — no visit! I could not restrain 
my impatience. I counted the minutes, till I thought I 
could send to General Zastrow! For, I wished to share 


FOR HER LIFE. 


195 


in this triumph — to grasp Serge Zastrow’s avenging 
hand ! A knock at my door ! The genial Trepoff entered, 
saying: 

“Grahame! — come with me; but don’t excite Serge. 
Just see him a moment, and then send your sister down. 
You can say good-bye to Zastrow this afternoon. 
He is all right, but weak! For, Vera must see him, too! 
You know what that means !” — he smiled. 

We descended to the first floor: there, in every tem- 
porary comfort, our hero was extended in a huge cano- 
pied bed. The surgeon sat quietly watching by him. The 
wounded man was in excellent condition, though still 
pale from loss of blood. He spoke cheerily, and said, as 
I sprang to his side: 

“Well, old fellow! you see I am all right! It was a 
close call! He meant I should go, too! The bone depart- 
ment saved me; for he was a close shot!” 

The physician lifted his warning finger. Long discus- 
sions were out of order here! I grasped his hand. My 
eyes thanked him for his noble self-devotion. He under- 
stood all, and smiled significantly, as he looked unutter- 
able things! 

“Send your sister to see me now,” said Serge. “I want 
to talk to her a moment before Vera comes in. Come 
yourself and see me this afternoon again. I’ll see all is 
fixed as you wish!” 

I understood the glance of his eyes, and retired on a 
significant hint from the “Medicus.” He wanted no fever 
to be encouraged, — and the coming visit of the bright- 
eyed Vera was a strong incentive to a spasm of Love’s 
fever ! 

I sent Hermione down, as I knew Serge wished to 
understand all her womanly views of such things, — and 
to have her bring Vera to him! They would arrange 
some consistent story so as not to alarm his love unneces- 
sarily! The dear little reward of love’s loyalty! It was 
evident General Zastrow and Trepoff knew nothing at all 
of the real root of the quarrel— a blessing to us! Radzi- 
vill’s lips were sealed now in death ! A crowning mercy. 
The right man in the right place! Serge saw at a glance 
that my silence was assured. My own safety insured that 


196 


FOR HER LIFE. 


one prudence. The delicate point was now sweet Vera, 
who must not have her own coming bridal clouded by 
any “arriere pensee!” No social scandal must blight the 
myrtle. With Vera and the Countess to aid, the Warsaw 
General and Count Mouravieff could easily stifle any fly- 
ing rumors. And, — society forgets so soon! I joined 
Trepoff and the General in the library, where we talked 
matters over briefly. There was nothing to indicate any 
future trouble. Both gentlemen approved of my hast- 
ened departure, and also offered me every aid. The good 
Trepoff (my Deus ex machina), would go down, to the 
station with us, — thus keeping the Zastrow family, direct- 
ly, out of the imbroglio! And, Love’s compact was se- 
cretly sealed between Hermione and the man who only 
lived to keep the wedding tryst at Brussels! I gave Tre- 
poff a draft for a round sum. He kindly departed for the 
bank to bring me English notes and French gold. It was 
agreed we should not leave the house, save to go to the 
station. I watched him go with a sigh. “I wonder if 
Love — any woman’s love — will repay him for his forfeit- 
ed career. For, he can not marry her and remain in the 
service of the Czar! Not unless the dead past is buried 
forever!” Trepoff would send a messenger and retain a 
stateroom on the train for Warsaw direct, as the Mos- 
cow stay was given up. We only sought to get over the 
frontier as soon as possible. A messenger had brought 
me the letters from Count Mouravieff to General Gourko 
— also, a private one (sealed), for Vera’s father. There 
was a brief penciled note to me from the wise Moravieff 
with his own sage injunctions: 

“I know the fatal result of the duel! T^ave here at 
once — to-day if possible. I will watch over your friends 
here. Serge will be fully protected. If you are troubled 
on the trip, dispatch to me ; I will then telegraph Gourko 
and Galitzin my private advice. Bon voyage. Our re- 
gards to Madame. Use my name anywhere. Captain 
Zastrow acted with great spirit! Tell him so! 

“Nicolas Mouravieff.” 


FOR HER LIFE. 


i97 


I was touched at this kindly help from the great noble. 
Truly, the old Russian families are like those loyal “Three 
Guardsmen,” — “one for all and all for one!” But, for the 
dark shadow of the police, still brooding over the social 
horizon, family life in Russia would be the most delight- 
fully hospitable and patriarchal in the world, — and a 
model for our more utilitarian and egotistic western na- 
tions! We who “know it all” in our own ignorance! 
Alas! the innocent always suffer for the guilty: a haunt- 
ing unrest pervades the conservative, educated, highly- 
placed Muscovite circles whose natural devotion and 
loyalty would be the richest circlet of jewels in the Rus- 
sian crown! It is not in the mind of the raw Western 
Republican to apply remedies to Russian affairs! We 
need our medicine sadly at home! 

The progress of this gifted nation is retarded by drag- 
ging along thousands of discontented peasants inno- 
cently born in ignorance and then nursed in a stupid fear 
of progress. They are only the pawns of Misery, while 
— the “mouchard” is the curse of Russia! as of every other 
land where a uniform makes a brute, the master of the 
toiler. 

General Zastrow told me he had informed his wife and 
Madame Komaroff of the entire facts, leaving Serge and 
Hermione to give Vera the easiest version to be devised 
by them. In this way, the family peace would be guaran- 
teed. I retired to my room after a stay of half an hour. 
The family assembled at breakfast on Trepoff’s return. 
Only six hours more! Hermione had met me in the 
hall, with eyes filled with grateful tears, as she pressed my 
hand, saying: 

“He has arranged all for our safety. Ah! Serge — God 
bless him! — is a true and noble heart! He has saved my 
future as well as my life here! For, he slew the one man 
I feared in the whole world! I am safe now.” 

No reference was made to the tragedy by us at the 
table. It was a final feast of friendly cordiality — and — 
our last one! Lovely Vera was silent, and thankfully 
musing over the safety of her lover. Innocent egotism 
of her devoted heart! But, her bright eye told me that 
she was our guardian angel, vowed now for the voyage. 


198 


FOR HER LIFE. 


Our departure was talked over freely, as General Zas- 
trow’s household rules excluded the governess and Pro- 
fessor Grimm from the morning table ! The young heir- 
ess spent the early day at the school-room and temporary 
musical academy: while the little girl’s quieter hours 
were devoted to the governess and her languages. At 
dinner was the family dress parade. Madame Komaroff 
decided gladly to return, at once, to her Warsaw home, 
after breakfast, leaving the anxious Vera to pack up and 
spend an hour with her gallant lover ; by whose side one 
of the Sisters of Charity was already installed. He was 
now sleeping and the surgeon had gone. “He won’t 
wake up for a few hours,” the doctor smiled, — and, — he 
knew. 

The Sisters of Charity of the Greek church are the 
self-constituted guardians of all sufferers, high and low. 
They are angels of modest and unobtrusive goodness! So 
Serge was in the safest and kindliest hands. The aspir- 
ing and intelligent, active-minded young Russian women 
would reach a plane of far higher moral activity by join- 
ing these devoted ranks of the sisterhoods, instead of 
conspiring for the overthrow c>f the slowly-developing 
national social system! Though faulty, it is worlds bet- 
ter than the wholesale wreck of Socialism! Half-educa- 
tion leads always to conspiracy and social ruin! To a 
thousand weaknesses; and hasty education is the curse 
of our own free Republic! It sows its dragon’s teeth! 
Our meal was soon ended. Much lay before us all. We 
said “adieu” to the good, motherly Madame Zastrow, 
who embraced Hermione with fond affection, insisting 
that “au revoir” was her only greeting. 

“You must come to us again,” she said. “There are 
warm hearts on the Neva!” 

I was perfectly satisfied with the temperature of a 
Quaker girl’s heart far away on the Schuylkill. These 
sympathetic natures had been drawn close together by 
the budding love which bound Vera to our kinsman 
Serge, and by ITermione’s complete conquest of little 
Olga Zastrow. 

We retired to our last preparations. My sister was still 
busied with her maid. Vera had joined in the watch over 


FOR HER LIFE. 


199 


her lover in a tender devotion! It was a labor of love! 
It was now noon, — a dark, cheerless, bitter day. Was 
this our last in St. Petersburg? I had begged Hermione 
to watch her rooms every moment! Where was the faith- 
ful Durand? Was it prudence which kept her away? 
I had finished my preparations and was now smoking a 
composing cigar, while musing over the long and dan- 
gerous journey before me! Would we run the gauntlet 
in safety? I could hardly wait the signal to leave. Every 
step was truly surrounded with peril, but yet Mouravieffis 
powerful help was to me a talismanic safeguard. 

I was suddenly awakened from my reverie by my man, 
who faltered, with wildly-staring eyes, “Would Monsieur 
kindly join the ‘Barin’ in the salon, at once, if possible.” 

“Instantly — if you please!” I saw a strange look on 
the man’s face. What new jack-in-the-box had popped 
out? Another delay? I descended the stairway with a 
kindly word to encourage Hermione when I passed 
through her room. “There is some sudden business,” I 
said. And as I left, she stood, her hands clasped on her 
frightened bosom. 

“Business!” she echoed. What was wanted now? I 
supposed the police were, perhaps, making a formal visit 
regarding the duel. I might be detained — perhaps a day 
or so, as a witness ! And yet, I knew my role ! I had my 
secret orders! Calmness! Silence! Prudence! I walked 
into the bright salon, with a perfectly unmoved face, as 
the man timidly opened the door. General Zastrow and 
his wife were standing side by side, — their faces showed 
the gravest concern, — and, a puzzled expression which 
at once alarmed me. Beside them, was the menacing 
presence of General Haxo. He smiled at me in his calm 
and inscrutable way. He did not even salute me! . It 
was an official visit! And — why? I heard a quick, joy- 
ful cry, — then — half turning my head — I was clasped in 
my sister Madeleine’s arms! She lovingly kissed me be- 
tween smiles and tears! I rubbed my eyes. 

“Where did you come from? How did you get here?” 
I murmured, as she started back in surprise. I was thun- 
derstruck-speechless! This was the fall of the sword! 
I was silent. My tongue was paralyzed — and all gazed at 


200 FOR HER LIFE. 

me. What devil’s work was this? I was rooted to the 
spot! 

Beautiful, beaming with love and highest happiness, 
Madeleine was a touching figure in her girlish beauty, — 
and, turning her eyes in wonder from stranger to strang- 
er, — no lovelier girl ever gladdened a happy American’s 
home. Her turban and her traveling furs lay on a chair! 
Evidently she had just arrived. But, — how? What 
brought her? The scene was burned into my brain ! And, 
all seemed to wait for me to speak. A cloud came into 
Madeleine’s eyes. I gasped an incoherent welcome; — all 
eyes were fixed on me. The old General stood there 
amazed! And, a dark frown gathered on his soldierly 
face ! He began to understand — too well for my peace of 
mind. 

“And, you never told me Justine was here!” was the 
next utterance of the overjoyed girl, who was now radiant 
with happiness. “Where is she? I see — you wished to 
surprise me!” 

Now! the wretched truth flashed on my mind! I was 
duped, tricked, — and Hermione was lost! Fear — simple, 
abject fear tied my tongue! But — I could warn her — the 
beautiful mystery! 

I moved toward the door. Could I reach Hermione 
she might escape to Durand’s hidden shelter! One 
chance remained open. General Haxo planted himself 
firmly before the door. I paused. Safety was impossible. 
It only remained to be mute — and suffer — in silence. 

Turning, with a mocking sneer, he said to General 
Zastrow: “Will you conduct Mademoiselle Grahame 
here instantly?” in a cutting tone of imperious mandate. 
The old General approached the door. 

“Certainly,” he said. “She will be glad to see her sis- 
ter, I am sure.” I groaned. 

“Stay!” said Haxo. “Send for her!” Mouchard cau- 
tion. And now, I knew why the police had guarded the 
house. It was to net us! General Zastrow rang the bell. 
His wife looked as if the ground were sinking under her. 
She knew that some dire stroke was impending! The 
butler appeared, and other servants had flocked into the 
hall. 


FOR HER LIFE. 


201 


“Ask Mademoiselle 'Grahame to kindly join us in the 
parlor instantly; it is very important!” said the head of 
the family, fixing his eyes on me in one glance of re- 
proachful, agonized wonder. My young sister, tired 
with travel, was still startled at such a welcome. Made- 
leine looked from one to the other. Her American spirit 
rose up. 

“Why! brother Walter! is my sister sick? What has 
happened? Why did you send this gentleman to meet 
me? Why did you not come? They said you were sick. 
It was some mistake — the dispatch. But you must thank 
him for all his kindness,” said she, gratefully smiling at 
General Haxo. “And — his friend, Colonel Luboff, was 
so kind. He told me all about you!” The clock in the 
hall ticked on in a dead silence. My speech was para- 
lyzed now, for down the stairs came Hermione’s light 
foot, and then she swept into the parlor, with unconscious 
grace ! There was a bright smile on her face — an expect- 
ant smile — which froze into marble! 

One glance told all! We were betrayed and lost! At 
the door behind her suddenly appeared two black forms ! 

“Who is this lady? Where is my own sister?” faltered 
the now frightened girl. Madeleine cried: 

“Walter, what does this all mean?” 

General Zastrow started forward, as Haxo raised his 
warning finger in command. Madeleine shrieked in ter- 
ror — for the two sentinels sprang on Hermione, whose 
right hand was neatly seized by the chief, as he twisted 
a little vial out of her grasp. So, her forfeited life was 
saved for his future torment! 

“Secure her!” he hissed, and a wintry smile played on 
his face. “I will take charge of this lady’s personal 
safety!” he leered. 

Madeleine fell sobbing on a chair. Old General Zas- 
trow turned on me like a lion in rage. 

“Where is my sister? My God! brother! can you not 
speak?” she wailed. “What have you brought me into? 
What a horrible den !” The old hostess glided to her side. 

“Fear nothing, my dear child,” cried the venerable 
Russian patrician. “You are safe! You have done no 
wrong! My poor girl! My poor girl!” she murmured, 


202 


FOR HER LIFE. 


— and then the hostess turned a glance on me which made 
me shiver in shame. 

“Will you explain this?” cried General Zastrow, as he 
sprang forward, — then gripping my hand like steel ! The 
old man was all life now. The honor of his house was at 
stake! 

I was silent, — for one glance of unutterable beseech- 
ing supplication beamed from Hermione’s eyes. I 
thought of TrepofFs heart — soon to be broken — and — 
his life! — now in peril! She stood proudly calm, with a 
secret agent holding firmly each wrist. The falcon was 
caught at last! Was Trepoff involved; or Serge? I 
might still save her life by my silence! 

“Let the burden fall on my shoulders alone!” I said. 
I could not find other words to answer. My eyes roved 
from my sobbing sister to the lovely Hermione, — an em- 
bodiment of utter despair in her cold beauty! Her pale 
face had the lines of an avenging goddess! 

“How in God’s name did Madeleine come here?” I 
mused, as my very brain seemed to rack and split. 
“Whose work was all this?” 

“Perhaps I can solve this riddle!” sneered the General. 
He stepped to the front door. General Zastrow sat down, 
entirely unnerved. This was a disgrace to his proud fam- 
ily name. With Haxo, soon returned a young officer of 
a line regiment. “Captain,” said the now triumphant 
Haxo, “you will permit no one to enter or leave this room 
till my return.” There were two birds in his net now. 
His eyes gleamed in cunning triumph. 

“Michael Alexandrovitch, I do this only in considera- 
tion for your family and this innocent young American 
lady! On your peril, be it as I have ordered. I hold you 
responsible, ‘in the name of the Czar !’ ” General Zastrow 
gravely bowed. 

I watched Haxo leave with a look of malignant satis- 
faction in his cold eyes, as he scowled at Hermione. “I 
have already sent my own valet to warn Trepoff,” whis- 
pered the General, “and, he will plead with the Grand 
Duke Michael. There is some mistake!” Hermione had 
seated herself, silent and sternly watchful. At her side 
stood the two rough men. They were respectable-look- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


203 


ing men of the lower classes. The young military officer 
leaned on his sword at the open door, with his keen eye 
waiting the slightest move. It was a strange scene, — in 
a great salon. No external stir denoted this drama with- 
in the house. Merry jingling sleigh-bells rang gayly out, 
as the revelers joyously glided by. The outside world 
ran along on its mad career of gayety! And — this was a 
Russian interior! General Zastrow and his wife busied 
themselves with Madeleine, who was afraid to approach 
me. Hermione fixed her blazing eyes silently on me! I 
read in their bright flashes the high pride of a spirited, 
self-devoted woman. But what prompted her attempt? 

“Silence a la mort,” was her resolution! The martyr 
light was shining even now on her brow. I could not 
look away from her! And, she would die with her secrets 
in that unpolluted breast! Ah! God! — what awaited her? 
What could impel such a woman to madly wreck all 
around her? Was our “good-bye” to be forever? To part 
at the prison door — she bound for the scaffold? I thought 
with useless sympathy, that events beyond our control 
had pushed her into the fatal tableau where we two were 
now the central figures! I was driven like a leaf before 
the storm. And she, — the victim of a foolish self-devo- 
tion! What was the last stroke of the mute chief? God 
alone knew! My brain whirled! We were not kept long 
in suspense! I was convinced in my heaviest of human 
hearts, that Hermione had never looked forward to such 
a wholesale family ruin wrought around her here now! 
No! Serge Zastrow’s cunning plan had failed on the very 
eve of success! 

A sleigh stopped before our doors. The bustle of de- 
scending travelers was heard ! Who was coming to gaze 
on our now public shame? In a moment, the chief re- 
entered the salon. Following him was the gigantic Col- 
onel Luboff, and on his arm a veiled lady, who quickly 
threw one startled glance around, and cried, “My own sis- 
ter!” as Madeleine sprang into her arms, with a glad wel- 
come, “Justine!” The weeping girl buried her face in the 
bosom of my dear matronly Russianized sister. I hung 
my head. Justine here! Now, my shame was complete! 
Springing to my side in a moment, as the old General 


204 


FOR HER LIFE. 


took Madeleine to a chair, my own loyal Justine said, as 
she grasped my cold hand: 

“My God! Walter! My own brother! Are you really 
better? What does all this mean? Why are these police- 
men here?” She saw Hermione at bay there! 

“It means,” said Haxo, — and the mocking voice dis- 
tilled slowly, each a drop of poison, “that this beautiful 
lady has been masquerading here as Walter Grahame’s 
sister Madeleine. Who is she? Do you know, Madame 
Justine Zastrow?” His finger pointed at Hermione, who 
sat mute, gazing with a pitying glance on my poor Made- 
leine, who looked around in questioning uncertainty. 
For the terrified girl’s debut in Petersburg society was 
not of a happy nature! “Do you know her, Mademoi- 
selle?” said the police General, not unkindly, speaking 
to Madeleine. 

“I never saw her in my life!” cried the girl who had 
come from Paris to nurse me, as she threw her arms 
around my neck, in a storm of sorrow! “Oh! Walter! 
Walter!” she cried, “what is all this? Did you do this? 
Tell me it is not true, Walter! Why did you telegraph to 
me that you were sick?” — she clung to me, while gazing 
at her weeping sister Justine, who, a matron, used to the 
wiles of Russian society now, blushed to see me caught 
in a disgraceful intrigue. 

“I never did!” I slowly faltered, as I felt my dear sister 
tremble, while her tearful eyes sought the truth in mine. 

“Why, I received several telegrams from you! Who 
sent them, then?” she demanded. I could not trust an- 
other syllable! A human life, perhaps, hung on each 
word. Hermione was a woman, — and, — friendless! It 
was her life in danger! General Zastrow broke the si- 
lence, as Haxo gazed with pride on his work! He had 
cornered me so that I must either disgrace or criminate 
myself. 

“You brought this lady to my house, sir, as your sister 
Madeleine!” said he, with fiery eyes. “You imposed on 
Serge and Trepoff with this story, too!” My heart leaped 
up in a secret joy. They were safe, at least. My dear 
ward gave one gasp, and then fell prone at my feet, — the 
girlish eyes closed in a deadly swoon. She knew me for 


FOR HER LIFE. 


205 


a shameless social traitor — and — I had used her own in- 
nocent name! I grasped her, but General Zastrow, his 
wife and Justine alone assisted to raise her, with the re- 
spectful aid of Haxo. She was soon lying sobbing 
there before me, her face buried in her hands. I would 
have sprung to her side in aid. I was powerless to help, 
for a heavy hand was on my arm. The silent officer said, 
at a glance from Haxo, “In the name of the Czar, — re- 
main here! You are under arrest.” At last! The bolt 
had fallen — and — I was a prisoner, as well as a disgraced 
man. “General Zastrow,” coldly said the chief, “I am not 
going to impeach your loyalty further than simply to 
search the rooms of these two persons. That is my offi- 
cial duty.” The old General’s breast heaved in a mighty, 
silent throb of shame. “Will you accompany Colonel 
Luboff as he seals all the baggage and places guards in 
the rooms I refer to? I will remain here.” Michael Zas- 
trow stepped forward to leave the room, his good, gray 
head bowed. 

“One moment before you go,” continued the implacable 
Haxo. “I desire to say that Madame Zastrow and her 
real sister Miss Madeleine are free, in every sense of the 
word — and worthy of your kindest hospitality. They 
must not blame me in this painful matter. It was forced 
on me! I am instructed to afford them every official 
courtesy, and your own house must be their home. It is 
due to them as innocent; and I shall make my duty — a 
private — nay, a confidential matter — as ordered! Favor 
me by returning when the rooms are sealed. I will await 
you,” — and he seated himself, as General Zastrow bowed 
in a dignified silence. The old host and the silent Luboff 
left the room together. Luboff s eyes rested, not un- 
kindly, on Hermione’s marble face, as he clanked away up 
the stairs. The sobs of my sister alone broke the ghastly 
silence! The “household gods” lay shivered all around 
us! And, I had brought shame and disgrace on the two 
women I loved, and shaded the family name in vain. 

“Can I remove Miss Grahame?” timidly said the sweet 
and sympathetic hostess, whose gentle heart turned 
kindly to all suffering. She was in a terror of her own. 


206 


FOR HER LIFE. 


Police under the roof of the Zastrows ! A search ! What 
ignominy! 

“In a few moments, Madame; as soon as the gentle- 
men return. You may go yourself where you will if 
you wish for anything.” The good lady fled from the 
room, — and returned in a few moments with various re- 
storatives and temporary comforts for my dear sister. 
She was followed by the calm Felise Dauvray, whose 
great gray eyes gleamed yellow as she looked at Her- 
mione now with a triumphant stare. 

The fainting spell was over. Madeleine began to re- 
vive; but, feebly attempting to speak, her voice failed 
her. She sank back again in silent exhaustion! Her 
debut in Russian “high society” had been too much for 
her! Cut down by the sudden shock, it had broken her 
nerve utterly. I vainly essayed to speak ! The officer re- 
strained me, with a very significant pressure! I dared 
not disobey. For, I might then be torn away at once. 
The “Dauvray” woman left the room on some trifling 
errand. I could easily divine her real purpose. She had 
now an excuse to force herself into Serge’s sick room 
and gloat over Vera’s agonies! Or — would she have an- 
other colloquy with Luboff? But, I could not stop her! 
It was true, my first guess, — for Vera came slowly to the 
door and glanced in timidly. There was an agony on her 
face, which I really pitied, even in my peril. Was Serge 
also a prisoner? Who could tell what would happen in 
this fated house? The General arose, with hideous polite- 
ness. He said: 

“The Countess Komaroff is always welcome! Pray 
enter!” — and he hastened to hand a chair — a really perfect 
squire of dames. 

Seeing two strange faces and the unusual array, she 
was recoiling, as old Madame Zastrow stepped forward, 
leading her to my sick sister’s couch. Vera seated herself, 
and a few whispered words passed between the hostess, 
Vera and the dear girl lying helpless there! 

I could well define the burden of these hurried disclos- 
ures: for Vera slowly turned her head and gazed anxious- 
ly at Hermione! I riveted my eyes upon her as she 
glanced at the beautiful woman, now a prisoner! It was 


FOR HER LIFE. 


207 


a crucial moment! The little Countess met the eyes of 
my Pandora with a wondering, anxious inquiry. There 
was a world of tender sorrow in the mute message of the 
girl’s eyes. Hermione was silent, but her swimming 
glances seemed to say, as she sat, in the proud dignity of 
her watchful silence: “Think of me at my best, dear, in- 
nocent child!” There must have been a subtle freema- 
sonry of spirit between their natures, for I could read a 
forgiveness in Vera’s kindling glance! For she madly 
loved her Serge, — and well she knew that Dimitri Trepoff 
adored the woman sitting there in shame! “I will never 
abandon you in sorrow and sadness ; — you may count on 
me to the last!” Such was the flashing signal of the 
brave little patrician. Hermione sighed softly as the fall 
of the snowflake. A spirit seemed to hover over her 
noble and pallid face. And, there — a helpless pawn — a 
prisoner — I sat, ignorant of the language of my keepers! 
The footman came to the door, which had been closed. 

“Major Dimitri Trepoff!” he announced. 

Dimitri, kindly and eager, bustled into the room ! He 
had closed up all his business and ordered train accommo- 
dations. And, here he burst in upon a scene which chilled 
his very marrow! He knew it was our ruin! His quick 
eye and long service in the Ministry of the Interior told 
him the most serious trouble had occurred! His eye 
roved from face to face, and a mask of professional cau- 
tion alone sealed his lips! For, — all our hopes were now 
centered in his nerve and coolness! 

“Pray be seated, Major Trepoff,” said General Haxo. 
“I will need you, — sir, — as a witness in the examination 
of the luggage of these persons (carelessly indicating 
Hermione and myself). Then, Haxo did not suspect 
Trepoff — or — did he mean to let him betray himself later? 

Trepoff sat down and exchanged glances with us. To 
me, his steady, friendly message was, “Silence! I am 
studying all! Wait!” Poor Hermione he eyed as one 
looks on the victim robed for the sacrifice! He knew 
Russian justice! And, stifling his love, he bowed in a 
mute obedience to Haxo’s request 

Colonel Luboff and General Zastrow returned! Trep- 
off silently pressed Constantine’s hand! There was not 


208 


FOR HER LIFE. 


a word exchanged! For, this story told itself! The fatal 
moment was now approaching. Luboff reported in a low 
tone to General Haxo, as Trepoff sprang across the 
room, and with Justine was busied at the side of the wom- 
an who had come from Paris to ruin us all in innocence! 
The chief mused a moment. He spoke then, gravely : 

“Michael Alexandrovitch,” said he, “I will draw down 
no scandal on your house ! I shall remove this unknown 
lady to the fortress at once! In deference to your dis- 
tinguished family, she will be taken quietly! I shall place 
no public guard over your honored home! The Ameri- 
can gentleman may remain in his room here under guard, 
and I charge Major Trepoff on honor with his keeping 
until I can report to higher authority for further orders 
in this very painful case! He is not to enter any other 
room in the house an instant, save to be present at the 
examination of this person’s baggage.” He spoke with 
a cold glance at the unmoved Hermione, “with which 
duty I also charge Major Trepoff, as well as a report on 
the personal goods of Monsieur! I request you to be 
present at each examination, which will be forthwith. 
Colonel Luboff will represent me! You, as a legal house- 
holder, General, are responsible for all, — now, — and I 
must exact that not one word be exchanged between any 
members of either family and this gentleman, Mr. Gra- 
hame. Major Trepoff alone will communicate with and 
for him! All papers, letters and telegrams for either of 
the culprits are to be held by Major Trepoff!” (Trepoff 
bowed.) ITaxo joyed secretly to make him the instru- 
ment of a private vengeance. He glibly concluded : “The 
two ladies who have a right to be here, are to have every 
freedom which the greatest courtesy can extend. I am 
officially responsible for their identity. I recommend 
them to seek your advice in all matters.” I saw the veins 
swelling on Trepoff ’s forehead like whipcord! — and — his 
eyes— his sad eyes gleamed as he gazed at Hermione! 
“I shall return and give my orders this evening as to the 
future detention of Monsieur!” The general silence was 
now oppressive. 

“Colonel!” said General Haxo to Luboff, “you will 
deliver your prisoner at once to the commandant of the 


FOR HER LIFE. 


209 


fortress, who has received orders already in her case!” 
So, the toils had been set for days! My friend Dimitri, 
fixed his eyes on me in a glance which said, “And, next — 
Serge and I go to join you!” 

“Captain,” said Haxo, in conclusion, as we all waited 
upon each syllable of the malignant military tyrant ; — the 
ladies cowered together; — the young officer saluted, and 
stood at his chiefs side in readiness; “you will report to 
Major Trepoff and then, follow his orders! Your com- 
mission is responsible for your duty! You will not sep- 
arate an instant from this gentleman until my return. 
Please order my sleigh!” “Ah! God!” I thought, “if Tre- 
poff can only set our powerful friends at work there may 
be hope yet!” 

The Captain sent one of the agents out, and in a few 
moments cool General Haxo descended the steps as if 
ending a polite call only, saying as he left the room : 

“Colonel Luboff, it is now two 0,’clock! I will return 
at eight this evening. Return here when you have de- 
livered your suspect, and then await me. Major Trepoff 
may select a woman servant to stay with the prisoner 
until her examination is over. She may take the proper 
baggage over to her on his order after the examination. 
The woman must not leave the fortress, though, after 
entering. I make these concessions from respect to 
General Zastrow, and to avoid public disgrace for him. 
You may now permit these ladies to retire, Colonel!” 
Luboff bowed. 

“A woman to go with her!” I thought. “Ah! then he 
is not so sure yet of his prey! For he may fear the Mour- 
avieffs — the Komaroffs — the Zastrows !” 

The chief saluted the family circle. His sleigh was soon 
bearing him, on the wings of the wind, to a secret con- 
ference with the Minister of the Interior, and further con- 
sideration of this strange case. For, no one yet knew 
why or wherefore the beautiful hunted fugitive had been 
seized. Nor my poor self! Though dazed, I thought it 
was remarkable he had not even hinted at the fatal duel! 
And, Serge Zastrow seemed to be unscathed by this offi- 
cial cyclone. I imagined he did not care to unnecessarily 
array the three great patrician allied families against him- 

14 


210 


FOR HER LIFE. 


self, on account of the dead Radzivill. For that energetic 
gentleman’s game was played out! War was on Her- 
mione! Had the issue of the duel disarranged his plans? 
Probably so! But, — what was his present hold on her? 
Where was his warrant? Alas! I knew that he was sure 
of his stroke! I thanked Heaven for Serge’s well-aimed 
shot. There was no direct proof as yet against her. 

As soon as General Haxo was out of sight, Trepoff 
conferred with General Zastrow. The ladies assisted my 
suffering sister from the room. And, she would not even 
look in my direction. It was a spasm of girlish fear. She 
was taken through the second salon, with the assistance 
of the two other gentlemen. Feebly her eyes sought mine 
in a mute reproach, which cut me to the very heart! I 
would be prisoned in the same house for a night! How 
much longer? That depended on the Czar’s will! And, 
what would become of us all? My accusing sister Jus- 
tine turned and, striding back through the salon, said 
to me, in a bitter voice: “I never thought to see our fam- 
ily name dragged down to shame, Walter!” Her eyes 
flashed as she faced me there. “But you have broken my 
sister’s heart!” Turning then, she followed Madeleine. 
I was alone now, indeed! For, I had violated the holy 
bond of affection, — and even old General Zastrow loathed 
me! Hermione’s eyes shone pityingly on me, as my face 
showed the anguish in my heart! For, I had “gone in to 
win,” and pledged even my family honor in vain ; — and — 
now — I dared not justify myself! The beginning of the 
end had come. Colonel Luboff, the Captain, and the 
two guards were all in the room with us! Only in a strict 
silence was there safety for me! And, — I would never 
regain, perhaps, my liberty! Of what use was a good 
name now? The devilish Frenchwoman had also disap- 
peared ! She would send the news far and wide through 
St. Petersburg with malignant, sly adroitness. A 
low hireling’s revenge! And — she had dragged Serge’s 
friend down to shame! A real triumph! Major Trepoff 
and General Zastrow returned in a few moments. The 
latter was anxious to quiet his house. He wished to pre- 
vent the thousand-tongued scandals which might forfeit 


FOR HER LIFE. 


211 


him the favor of the Emperor, and the respect of society! 
He was silent save to remark to Colonel Luboff: 

“I have sent for my own family physician. Please al- 
low him to enter” He glared then sadly at me. His 
dishonorable guest! Colonel Luboff bowed his assent. 
He now gravely spoke to the young- Captain in a low 
tone. There was “business” in his every accent — and I 
began to fear new developments. The young officer 
quickly disappeared. He dispatched a waiting messenger, 
for in a few moments, a double sleigh dashed up and 
stopped at the door! It was from the Place Razvodni. 
It awoke bitter memories in me of that fatal night! 

“Madame,” said Luboff, “I have now to perform my 
duty.” Hermione looked out at the blinding storm, for 
the snowflakes were whirling down dismally. Her eye 
rested on the river, beyond which lay the dark fortress. 
I knew her wish. Death — before dishonor! I read it in 
her despairing eyes. Luboffs quick wit saw the mute 
prayer, and read it strangely. 

“Major Trepoff, will you kindly have this lady’s maid 
bring all this person’s wraps and furs, with such other 
articles as you may think proper? You are in charge of 
her effects.” 

“Certainly,” said Trepoff, who made a sign to General 
Zastrow, and they ascended the stair, followed by Vera 
Komaroff, who spoke in low tones to Hermione. 

Silence, save for the ticking of the clock in the hall, as 
they left us. My eyes were fixed on the doomed woman. 
At the word “maid,” uttered by Colonel Luboff, I saw 
her lips move. No sound! but they seemed to shape 
the word, “Marie Durand” — and, in one quick, fleeting 
glance of intelligence, I saw that Dimitri Trepoff under- 
stood the appeal. He had been standing bowed in a deep 
study, but I had noted his man leave the front door, as 
if on an ordinary errand. If I could only get the faithful 
Durand to join Hermione — would it be possible? How 
to communicate, though? Oh! for some one happy in- 
spiration! I dared not speak— for I was sternly watched. 
I met her gaze with a glance of comprehension. She 
seemed to say, “I trust all to Dimitri Trepoff now!” I 
could read that faith in her shining eyes. But how to get 


212 


FOR HER LIFE. 


Hermione’ s wishes! It was vital. I dared not try to 
speak to her. It would perhaps ruin us both. The gen- 
tlemen were on the stair, and bore the articles back them- 
selves! Evidently the quick-witted Vera had been called 
in to select them. I waited in a trance of pain. Turban, 
wraps, fur and all the traveling articles, with a small port- 
manteau. No maid with them! Perhaps — if Trepoff only 
caught the idea! He smiled faintly at me. Did he under- 
stand? General Zastrow preferred to keep the shame of 
this departure out of the servants’ eyes! This forced re- 
moval of a guest of the honored house to a malefactor’s 
prison cell — a black day for the Zastrow name ! The only 
shadow in two hundred years, rested on the noble name, 
— and it was through me ! I bitterly cursed the day when 
I saw the frontier of icy Russia! Hermione addressed 
herself to Colonel Luboff, whose manner was apparently 
that of a man deeply moved. Her voice thrilled us all in 
its strange unearthly sweetness. It was the first syllable 
since she had been rudely seized: 

“May I speak to Major Trepoff for one moment, sir?” 
I breathed in an agony of doubt. 

“Certainly, Madame! but, only in my presence/’ was 
the reply of the former admirer of the Fair Unknown. 
He was also mindful of the Captain’s presence. 

“Major,” said Hermione, very slowly, “I would not 
like to rob General Zastrow of any of his own tried 
house servants to go as my maid. I shall not need one 
long, — not, after my trial,” she remarked simply. “I 
would like to send for my own sewing-woman, who also 
has a number of my garments, and to have her stay with 
me as long as possible!” 

Trepoff gazed at Colonel Luboff, who nodded careless- 
ly his approval. I felt my heart leap up in one throb of 
joyous hope. Durand ! ! ! 

“Certainly, Madame; if you will give me the address 
I will send for her to-night,” said Trepoff, whose voice 
was cold and strange. “She can bring such things as 
you need.” And his eyes met hers, in one fugitive glance, 
— as he continued: “I will then send her to the fortress 
with a pass to join you, but she must be personally 
searched on going and coming; and she will also have 


FOR HER LIFE. 


213 


to stay with you till your case is decided! Such are the 
rules!” He spoke calmly, yet I thought I could trace a 
lurking kindness in his tones! Was it only pity? Did 
Luboff suspect? Ah! No — he was busied with a little 
affaire du coeur of his own. 

“Then I had better write her a note. May I?” said the 
helpless woman, who was going from a patrician home 
to a public prison, as she appealed to Colonel Luboff. 
The burly soldier gazed good-humoredly at the fair sup- 
plicant: 

“I have no objection, if Major Trepoff takes the offi- 
cial responsibility, — and the note is open and brief,” said 
the debonnair Luboff. His thoughts were far away, — for 
he regarded Hermione as an affair of the General’s. 

Paper and pencil were quickly brought. My cheeks 
burned; I bowed my head, as I feared I might betray 
myself by too keen an interest. I avoided Hermione’s 
eyes. I thought foi the first time, “What a reckoning I 
will meet in Philadelphia, for this volunteer folly, when 
my sisters even condemn me unheard!” She wrote 
briefly, as follows: 

“Mme. Bredoff, 

“1089 Italiansky Str. 

“Send my sewing woman, Marie, to stay with me, as 
Major Trepoff will explain. I need my dresses in your 
hands, now. Keep all my other work in hand. Send me 
a trusty woman of your own selection, if mine is busy.” 

Colonel Luboff took the note, read it, and gave it to 
the Major. “Very good,” said he; “you can send for the 
woman at once. She can get the needed articles ready, 
when you examine the luggage here. I will leave orders 
with the guard for your pass to admit the woman you 
send over.” 

Dimitri sent the note instantly, by one of the house 
servants, with directions to return at once with the wo- 
man. Colonel Luboff arose, donned his cloak, and took 
his sword and turban. The moment of our parting, per- 
haps forever, was at hand. “I will leave the guards here, 
Major,” said he. General Zastrow arose, with agitation. 


214 


FOR HER LIFE. 


and silently left the room, without a word. He could 
not bear to see his mysterious guest taken away by the 
police. Silence hung like a pall over us; for the old 
man’s sorrow shivered our hearts. It was a realization 
of the shame. The Captain and guards retired to the 
anteroom on a signal from the Sub-Chief. Trepoff stood 
there, mutely regarding the beautiful prisoner, her 
clasped hands trembling. But Hermione was ready. 
She had donned her furs and turban. Vera’s thoughtful- 
ness had provided a fleecy throat wrap and a heavy veil. 
A woman’s gentle thought for another’s helplessness! 
Bright and tender girl! She pitied her fallen sister, and 
I blessed her, even in my own gloomy sorrows. “May I 
say good-bye?” said Hermione appealingly to the col- 
ossal Colonel, indicating me, with a glance. I was on the 
rack. Luboff muttered, “Be brief! It is against my 
duty. Still — ” — and he walked out of the room with a 
sign to Trepoff to remain. Oh! God! how to use these 
fleeting moments! The gallant Dimitri was suddenly 
interested in a picture at the far corner of the salon ; and 
Hermione sprung to his side. It seemed an age to me 
before they had finished their colloquy, and I saw Di- 
mitri’s arms around her as he pledged his love and devo- 
tion to the last. And then she came swiftly to me. “He 
must recover himself! Luboff may suspect!” she quick- 
ly whispered, as she clasped my hand in hers. “Now, 
you will not be long in their keeping! Work with Serge 
and Trepoff! Silence to the end! Trust Durand or 
the woman sent! My note explains. We have friends 
even in the fortress. Don’t attack Haxo at all! He 
knows little as yet. Work with Trepoff! Beg Vera to 
implore the Komaroffs and Mouravieffs to help, for Di- 
mitri’s sake! I will communicate in some way! No 
writing! Watch this Dauvray. She has spied on us! 
Appear always ignorant and talk to no one but Vera, 
Serge and Trepoff. I implore pardon of our hosts. May 
God bless your dear noble sisters ! They will surely par- 
don you, when I am far away! Now!” (and, her" arms 
closed once around my neck) “Good-bye! In life and 
death, your poor companion! Fate was against us both! 
I did not mean to ruin you all! My life may pay my 


FOR HER LIFE. 


215 


debt! Don’t forget me! Comfort Dimitri when I am 
gone! They may only send me away! You have been 
more than a brother to me!” And her burning lips 
pressed kisses on mine. A woman’s last farewell! An 
honest woman’s tenderest adieu! “We will save you, 
Hermione!” I cried. “I swear it! I will never leave 
your cause! Count on me to the very last!” I murmured. 
Trepoff turned. He quivered as he saw my eyes were 
blinded with bitter tears; and he was forced to play the 
indifferent now — for her life. 

Hermione advanced proudly and with simple grace as 
Luboff re-entered the room. “Major,” said she, in a 
broken voice, “I thank you for all your kind considera- 
tion to me.” The huge Colonel was keenly eying them, 
and saw the broken-hearted Dimitri kissing her hand, in 
a cold silence. I felt now the Czar’s iron gauntlet was 
closing to crush “the lovely Queen of the Forget-Me- 
Nots!” And yet, my heart clung to even the slightest 
hope. Marie Durand! I knew her secret power! One 
thankful glance of the splendid eyes repaid Trepoff for 
his manly courtesy to a fallen idol. He turned away 
in a storm of silent sorrow; and the woman he loved 
spared him one last pang. “Give me your arm,” said she 
to me. I conducted her to the front entrance, where 
Colonel Luboff, turban in hand, gave her his hand. It 
was Haxo’s order to make no public exhibition of the 
family’s secret disgrace. She pressed my arm with her 
trembling fingers. I knew her message! On the thresh- 
old of the house, into which her fatal presence had 
brought such general misery and heart-break, she paused 
and turned her head, in a last passionate farewell to me. 
It was a message for Dimitri Trepoff; and I loyally re- 
ceived it. Her eyes met mine. A light not from the 
unreal world we know shone on that pale, proud face! 
I closed my eyes as I prayed to God for His mercy, His 
helping hand, stretched out over us both. 

She was gone! Perhaps forever, out of my troubled 
existence; and I had forgotten that I was a prisoner on 
parole. Down the stair, with graceful step, I saw her 
from the salon window pass with the Colonel; and she 
stepped to the sleigh as if going to a ball at the Winter 


216 


FOR HER LIFE. 


Palace. There was no stir on the snow-mantled street, 
only the usual huddle of humanity “going to and fro 
vainly,” as their fathers have done for ages and their 
children will to the end of time. How brave and stately 
she looked, standing there with her eyes fixed on Trepoff, 
at the window. 

The Colonel seated Hermione with every care; her 
bright, lovely face was turned to the window, seeking 
still her lover’s face. He stood there, his duty veiling 
the higher duty of love, for her life — her dear life’s sake! 

One last glance of tender, imploring passionate “Fare- 
well,” the driver loosed the impatient steeds, and onward 
they darted, out into the driving storm. Hermione threw 
her laces closely around her face. The departing couple 
drove away as if on pleasure bent; and now, to secret 
work! I had lost the “sister” given me by the hand of 
Destiny! But I swore in my heart never to abandon 
her while her heart quivered in its sorrow. The poor 
ill-starred “Queen of the Forget-Me-Nots!” Up stairs 
lay my dear Madeleine ; in a grief not to be assuaged 
was hidden from me one sister dividing another’s first 
great sorrow, and the whole house lay under the shadow 
of the darkness of my troubles! Poor Serge was doomed 
to a helpless silence, and Trepoff’s hands were tied. 

I threw myself into a chair, in absolute exhaustion. It 
was a grim outlook. Trepoff touched my arm. “I must 
make this search!” he said in English. “Beware! We 
are watched every moment! God help us all! Come 
with me to your room ! What aevil’s work is this whole 
sudden attack! You can help me to save Hermione! I 
will leave you in your room with the Captain. I will 
see all our friends in his house, then, — I will then ex- 
amine your baggage! And then, my God, to help Her- 
mione!” I entered my room, passing through Hermi- 
one’s deserted apartment, where all her scattered belong- 
ings spoke of womanly refinement and taste. “Will we 
ever see her face again?” he groaned. “Oh! God! I am 
going mad! I will shoot myself if she is torn from me!” 

The Captain was in my room, and an agent in each 
apartment. I dared not continue a conversation with 
Dimitri, who was losing his self-control. I seated myself 


FOR HER LIFE. 


217 


as^ they tumbled, my effects over. Trepoff remarked, 
“Captain, I place you in charge here. I will return soon. 
You may ring for anything you want,” said he to me. 
And his eyes told me" he had gone to confer with Serge 
Zastrow. The Captain saluted and sat down. My reso- 
lution was taken. I would guard an absolute silence; 
only briefly replying to any queries; and perhaps Her- 
mione might evade the meshes of the law! I lit a cigar 
and tried to collect my thoughts. It was better that 
Trepoff should be my only confidant; Vera and Serge 
would be a unit. I could reach the Komaroffs and Mou- 
ravieffs through them. And, as for my sisters, I must 
suffer, and let Time bring my justification. Justine and 
Madeleine would be spared the insult of being witnesses! 
Evidently they would be well treated. I could not ex- 
plain till Hermione’s fate was decided. And what would 
be mine! Would I be imprisoned? 

General Haxo had it in his cruel hands. What was 
his real game? Not altogether my absolute master, — 
there was some law! Probably he would not go too far 
in my own case. American political friendship is sup- 
posed to be necessary to Russia, as our Pacific coast 
line is their only friendly neutral shore in case of war 
with England. They would not ruin me, even for a 
social intrigue. But, poor Hermione! There were pow- 
ers as high as even the great Haxo, in icy Muscovy! But 
I must not fight him! I glanced at the rather stupid- 
looking young Captain. He was a human blank, — a 
mere official thing tied to a sword! I would be cour- 
teous in manner to him, and that would suffice; for he 
was in temporary charge of an American sovereign, and 
I must be sure to disguise Trepoff’s friendship by court- 
ing him alone. 

It was growing dark. The great electric lights flashed 
out on the gray battlements of the fortress beyond the 
chilly river. And there, behind these guarded gates, 
Hermione’s sighs and tears were now mingled with the 
general wail of the crowded prison. The falcon was 
caged. God pity her! And what was the real cause of 
her seizure! Yet, a mystery. 

What would be her situation! I felt sure she would, 


218 


FOR HER LIFE. 


until conviction, be treated with some decency, out of re- 
gard to the high families socially connected with her brief 
career as my “sister.” The Russian tiger can afford to 
dally with his prey; for one fell spring ends the grisly 
pantomime. It is a land of fearful surprises ! They would 
try to extract information from her. To force her se- 
cret from her, — the untold secret of her past history, — 
and to unlock her carven lips ! But how, — what hideous 
means would break her proud spirit? I dared not think. 
I shuddered and left the window — a prisoner, too! My 
two angered sisters! The one insulted, the other heart- 
broken at my disgrace! I must let nature assert itself, 
and my full justification must wait. Trepoff could help 
me there at last, but I dared not involve him and the 
dashing Serge. As to General Zastrow and his family, 
I must try and keep them out of the future entangle- 
ment of the trial. They would be brief and not too em- 
bittered witnessess, I hoped, against me. No present 
explanation to them was possible. Myself! Ah! yes! I 
was in the very gravest trouble for a lawyer! My of- 
fense would be, perhaps, bounded by a short term of 
imprisonment; probably it would be short or long, as 
Hermione was found innocent or guilty. But of what 
specific offense! As an American counselor, I had un- 
wittingly disgraced my calling! 

Stunned and wearied, I rang for a glass of wine and 
waited, throwing myself on a couch. I dared not plead 
that I had been forced into a false position by the reck- 
less Captain! What would our Minister do! 

The jingle of sleigh-bells aroused me. I saw Madame 
Komaroff descend from her cutter, assisted by the foot- 
man in attendance. Here was another serious arraign- 
ment of me, for social deception. But, I felt Vera would 
explain all to her, to save Serge Zastrow. In a half-hour, 
Dimitri returned. The Captain walked into the front 
room. He was modest before the dashing field officer of 
the swell Paul Regiment. As Confidential Aid of the 
Grand Duke Michael (a dauntless and decorated field 
officer), Trepoff could be trusted anywhere. He was “in 
charge,” by the Haxo’s orders; and well that schemer 
knew that Trepoff would honorably perform his official 


FOR HER LIFE. 


210 


trusts. Dimitri rolled a cigarette, and began his recital. 
“Madeleine, the real Madeleine, is very ill,” said he. 
“Madame Zastrow and Justine are with her. The poor 
girl must be spared any talking, for the physician fears 
brain fever. Your sister Justine will not hear a word,” 
he sighed, and continued, “for Commodore Zastrow will 
be simply frantic over such an open scandal. It is pretty 
hard,” he sighed. “Vera and Serge know all now. They 
will help you for the family interest. You are not in the 
gravest danger; but Hermione, — my God! I cannot bear 
to think! I will probably be relieved from this case, if 
General Haxo can prejudice me with the Grand Duke. 
I suppose he only uses me as a poor deference to old 
Michael Zastrow’s record and unsullied name! The dear 
old General himself can do nothing. They must all be 
kept in the background. He asked me to say that your 
sick sister shall have every needed help and comfort. 
You had better not see him now! He is very bitter 
against you, naturally; and if he thought Serge and I 
had aided you, he would go mad with rage! Serge will 
be up and can help us in a day or so, for his trouble about 
the duel will be dropped. Now, I will go and consult 
him; for Hermione’s life depends on our rallying all the 
secret influence we can command! The charges are as 
yet in the dark. Zastrow has asked me to take charge of 
all your effects, and Hermione’s,” he said, with some 
awkwardness; “for they will send you over there to be 
examined,” he said, very gently putting the case. “You 
may trust me,” said he, with feeling. “I know that, 
Trepoff,” said I, brokenly. “I cannot justify myself to 
the old General now, but I will some day. I would never 
have consented to this risky deception. Serge forced it 
on me.” “I am aware of that,” warmly said Trepoff. 
“Still, it is an awful blow to us just now. Let me do 
what I can till we can safely talk!” — and he glanced at 
the open door. “I told Serge myself the whole thing 
would go to pieces at a touch — just as it has done. Mad- 
ame Komaroff wants to see you for a moment. I shall 
permit her, as she is far beyond possible suspicion.^ Try 
and interest her,” said the Major, as he walked out. “I am 
astonished at your two sisters being lured on here. There 


220 


FOR HER LIFE. 


is some dark side yet to the whole affair,” he muttered. 
The silent Captain took his place. Alas! I knew too 
well my letters had given Haxo all the family details he 
needed— the stolen ones! In a few moments, the Coun- 
tess Komaroff entered. I rose and kissed her hand re- 
spectfully. The stately lady seated herself and smiled like 
a good fairy. Vera had evidently won her sympathy. 
“I am sorry for you, Mr. Grahame,” she said, “and I 
have promised Vera to help the poor foolish one over 
there now!” Her cheerfulness brightened me up a little. 

“Tell me all that you properly can,” said she, as 
the Major and his junior left the room. I was in a 
quandary. I dared not implicate Serge or tell the story 
of Trepoff’s mad love. I decided to allege treachery in 
stealing my letters and a plot against my clients. I 
briefly referred to the events, and ignored their real 
causes. I dwelt on the devilish forgery and treachery 
which had lured both my poor sisters to such a crushing- 
shock of studied cruelty. “These things will make a stir 
at the Legation! My sisters have been trapped by of- 
ficial duplicity ; and it will discredit your authorities ! 
Poor women, — they are utterly innocent!” I said. “You 
are right!” the Countess said, thoughtfully. “It was an 
outrage to drag them into this! I know that my heart 
goes out to them,” replied this good angel. She was 
accustomed to these tableaux in real life. “You see that 
I never wrote or telegraphed them to come!” I said. “It 
was that fiend Haxo; and he went far beyond his duty,” 
said the spirited Countess. “I will help you with Count 
Mouravieff and my husband. I know Haxo’s reputa- 
tion! He wished to get that strange beauty into his 
power, and has tried to ruin you to reach her ! Who can 
she be!” 

I told her of all the duel, in its full relation to us. 
“That one of Haxo’s underlings had deliberately insulted 
the harmless woman!” The Princess mused a few mo- 
ments. “There is a great deal behind this!” she decided. 
“We do not know her charges yet.” She looked very 
grave. “The General has involved himself in taking 
such a man from the Emperor’s side and setting him 
on to fight Serge! I shall have Count Mouravieff send 


FOR HER LIFE. 


221 


for Major Trepoff! You know Nicolas is head of the 
Privy Council! And, this poor Hermione,” said she, ris- 
ing and taking my two hands. Her sparkling eyes were 
fixed on mine earnestly. “Can I — ought I to — aid her? 
Can I let my daughter follow her own generous wishes 
and sue to the Emperor! I ask this on the honor of 
manhood! Is she worthy? Do you know anything? Is 
it only some headlong romantic folly, or is she an adven- 
turess who sought a safe field here?” “You can do all a 
noble woman may for that unfortunate,” I replied, firmly. 
“There is no shame between us, — there never was. This 
situation was forced on us both! I can explain to you 
some day, and you shall know all. She is to be pitied — 
this Hermione whose life I know something of. Your 
lovely daughter can help in this work!” “I believe you! 
I will help you !” said she, rising. “There has been wrong 
done to your own innocent sisters! Let this be used to 
palliate this Hermione’s foolish deceit! Let Trepoff 
know all! I will see that he gets a pass to visit your 
companion!” My heart leaped up! Here was the first 
gleam of light! “Do you know who she really is?” 
the Countess queried. “Madame, on my honor, I do not. 
I only surmise!” said I, as I gratefully kissed the gracious 
lady's hand. “She has promised her full confidence to 
me, when out of Russia. There are others to shield be- 
sides me!” I said boldly; and the lady understood. “She 
has great refinement, and her talents and beauty are 
wonderful!” replied Madame Komaroff, musingly. 
“Even her nationality is not betrayed by any marked 
mannerism. She is undoubtedly a European, and well 
born !” persisted the curious Countess, eying me with in- 
terest. I was being gently cross-examined. “She is cer- 
tainly a continental lady of high birth,” I replied, cau- 
tiously. “You will know all yet from her lips, Madame, 
I hope, when she is free!” I begged her in parting to tell 
my dear and beloved Madeleine that I was guiltless of 
the seeming deceit. I implored her to urge on the angry 
Justine also my claims to a patient hearing. I ventured 
to say that “a man of honor can hold but one course— 
to guard a woman's secrets!” 'Trust me, Colonel; put 
I advise you in future to beware of all handsome strange 


222 


FOR HER LIFE. 


goddesses!” was the parting sally of the mercurial Rus- 
sian lady whose eagerness to know all mingled a spice 
of womanish vindictiveness against my unfortunate sex, 
with the warm sympathies of her kind heart. “It is 
strange how many risks are taken for young and beauti- 
ful wanderers! Now, if she had been old and ugly” — 
she waved her fan, and said, “Au revoir!” as she swept 
down the stair. She had whispered, “You are in no 
serious danger; but, God help your friend Hermione, as 
Vera calls her, before a summary court!” 

Major Trepoff entered in a few moments. “I will now 
formally examine your luggage, and make a list of your 
effects,” said he. “I know you are all right; so I’ll not 
try to hoodwink my junior.” He called the Captain and 
a police agent. I rang for my own man, on a hint from 
Trepoff ’s eyes. I then silently smoked and watched the 
thorough inspection of my belongings. All was right. 
“They can tumble them over at will. I do not fear,” 
was my inward comment. “Perfectly satisfactory,” said 
the Captain, with evident relief, as the police agent noted 
the whole details, signing the paper first himself and pre- 
senting it to his superior, who affixed his own official 
signature. “Now, we will examine the other room,” said 
Dimitri. “I have two women waiting there from the 
dressmaker’s, and one of them is the seamstress whom 
.Hermione employed.” He sighed as he spoke; but I 
could see a gleam of triumph in his eye. Marie Durand 
was near to help us now! “I will have her overlook all 
the boxes and then pack up what is needed, and as she is 
not very strong the other woman will go over in the 
morning with the goods to the fortress. I wish you to 
be present, as General Haxo intimated you would be held 
responsible for the prisoner! General Michael has named 
M’lle Dauvray to represent him, under the laws of 
‘domiciliary search,’ as he and his wife will be formal 
witnesses on their own account, as they are responsible 
for ‘the house’ in all its legal relations.” I understood 
him. We then entered Hermione’s deserted apartment. 
The bright bird, alas, had flown forever, but it spoke of 
her graceful presence, in all its scattered elegance. I 
seated myself in watchful silence in the chair, at the writ- 


FOR HER LIFE, 


223 


ing table. Trepoff rang the bell, with a grave official 
manner. “Send up those two women at once!” said he, 
as the man appeared. “Then give my compliments to 
M’lle Dauvray, and ask her to be good enough to join 
me here, by request of General Zastrow!” The servant 
bowed and withdrew. So! the governess was a witness! 
In a moment he ushered in two plainly dressed women. 
I instantly recognized the faithful “Durand,” with her 
face swathed in a muffler — a case of neuralgia; a very 
severe case evidently. She gave me one quick glance. 
I saw that she knew all. The servants’ hall is a general 
gossip exchange in Russia; and she was now thoroughly 
posted. “Partout comme chez nous!” Servants rule the 
masters who pamper and pay them ! The kingdom of the 
vile! I was on guard, for was not Hermione’s fate now 
at stake? The other woman was evidently chosen by her, 
and was one of the Dark Order, whose loyalty and cool- 
ness could be depended on. And so, Hermione was not 
friendless, though a prisoner as yet on unknown charges. 

The rustling of a gown announced the approach of the 
pale, self-contained Dauvray! She spoke in a low tone 
to Major Trepoff, who turned to me and said (as if only a 
host, instead of my keeper), “Walter, your dinner will 
be sent to your room as soon as this is over! The Gen- 
eral requests you to give all your usual household direc- 
tions through the Captain; and then you will receive in- 
stant attention.” I bowed silently. Russian hospitality 
still, even if under a cloud! The gray-eyed French wo- 
man gazed with gentle interest at me — a pitying inter- 
est. The room was brilliantly lighted up, as it was now 
dark outside. I met her eyes gravely and appeared not 
to notice her presence beyond returning her respectful 
bow. I had already enemies enough ! And we were not 
social foes — my past was friendly as far as she was con- 
cerned. Whom was she hunting down? It was her brief 
hour of triumph, though, and she showed it. She cast 
her eyes carelessly on the two women who sat silently 
by as the agent unstrapped all the boxes, which had been 
prepared for our departure. She did not recognize Marie 
Durand, and now, I understood the origin of Russian 
neuralgic attacks. The Captain had noted the number 


224 


FOR HER LIFE. 


and marks of all the packages. We were all ready to 
begin a search which I felt was only a mere formality. 
“Proceed!” said Major Trepoff. “Let us see every ob- 
ject!” The women emptied the trunks, one by one, plac- 
ing all the contents of each in a pile, after the most 
searching examination. Not a single word was spoken, 
save the directions to repack each as it was finished and 
sealed by the attendant policeman. Not a scrap of paper, 
not a suspicious article, so far! I breathed freely. One 
after another of the cases was examined, and Le Brun 
quietly directed the rearrangement of all the wardrobe. 
Two or three cases were left open to receive the useful 
and needed articles to be dispatched to that dressy resort 
— the fortress. It was nearly done ! The other cases were 
now closed, locked and sealed. The keys being handed 
one by one to Major Trepoff, who made notes in his 
own private book, as well as an official list. He would 
have no foul play. All was progressing well; only one 
or two pieces remained. A portmanteau case with the 
jewels and some scattered small affairs closed the long 
list. I watched Felise Dauvray’s eyes sleeping under 
their long lashes. She was grave-faced ; and yet her lips 
wore a peculiar smile — a happy one! 

From time to time, Durand’s eyes met mine. She in- 
dicated her fear of the ugly looking French woman by 
one stony, furtive look. I could see she would like to 
communicate to me. But I dared not, for the revengeful 
governess brooded there cat-like, and gazed intently as 
each finger was lifted, and I began to fear the end was 
not yet come. As my man entered on some trifling er- 
rand, Durand’s eyes indicated him to me as her friend. 
I could see then that he was “all right.” He was also a 
silent rebel, a plotter, and a brother of the mysterious 
order. We had some champions, at any rate, among all 
these banded foes. But Haxo held the whip hand so 
far. Durand made a signal that he had a letter for me. 
The quick-witted fellow made a motion to indicate a 
service-tray. Ah! yes! I could see! At dinner he would 
bring me news; and from whom? Durand sat motionless 
— keen alert! Faithful woman! Risking her life for us! 
T could read the relief on Trepoff’s fine face as our task 


FOR HER LIFE. 


225 


was nearly finished. Nothing yet— not a scrap! All the 
loose articles were examined. Only the jewel, port- 
manteau remained now. “I am personally responsible 
for these valuables!” said Dimitri, as he stepped to it, 
standing at the Dauvray’s side. The key of this had been 
given to Major Trepoff on General Haxo’s demand for 
Hermione’s keys; and her lover now held the last secret 
in his trembling hand. “I shall inventory all these valu- 
able articles,” said the Major to me, “and give you a 
list of them. You can then send it and sign the dupli- 
cates. I will deposit them in the St. Petersburg bank till 
further orders.” The young Captain bowed in obedience. 
Trepoff seemed calm. He knew that Hermione’s jewels 
were worthy of her rank in the social life she had orna- 
mented, and he opened the case carelessly. But it was 
also the most suspected place of resort for womanhood’s 
love secrets. I caught the governess’ eye, with sparkling 
interest, watching the Major, who called off the different 
articles to the Captain. “Mademoiselle, will you assist 
me to describe these ornaments?’’ said Trepoff, as he 
began on the enumeration. “I wish to be. very careful 
with them, as they seem to be very valuable.” • She glided 
to his side like a snake, and, in passing, gave me a 
glance of unutterable hatred. The mask was off, now! 
What did she mean? I read “Victory!” in her deadly 
sneer. And, I trembled as i held my breath. There was 
a last shot yet to be fired. The Captain had been sum- 
moned as another government witness, and was also 
making a careful list of the jewels. Durand and her com- 
panion were now idle, and the under-agents retired, re- 
spectfully, to the next room. The heavy work wtis all 
finished/ The backs of the others were now turned. I 
could see that Durand watched me most anxiously. She 
dropped a letter from her sleeve, and then shoved it in 
between the cushions of the couch she sat on. Ah! our 
postoffice — our own invention! In a moment,, she rose 
and went to the front window with her companion, care- 
lessly seating herself on a chair. She wished me to go 
to the new postoffice; so I quietly changed my place with 
no apparent purpose. The letter was soon safely in ^niv 
hand. I bent down, as if arranging my shoe, and then 
II 


226 


FOR HER LIFE. 


slipped it in my stocking. If searched, I might escape. 
I trembled as I did so. Had I been seen? I breathed 
freer; for I was apparently unobserved. No danger! 
The French fiend was seemingly feasting her eyes on the 
jewel casket. So much was done toward establishing a 
thorough mutual plan of action. What next? . Ah! if 
Trepoff could only be away, now, rallying the friends of 
the poor prisoner! For my strange extra “sister” was 
now in a cell. Trepoff raised the tray of the casket and 
examined the whole interior. A sudden exclamation es- 
caped his lipst What had happened? He turned to the 
chandelier! His face was in agony, as the Captain and 
Felise Dauvray sprang to his side. He sighed, as he mo- 
tioned them to a seat at the table. The sigh of a lost 
soul! In his hands was a packet of papers — papers! I 
dropped my head. I knew now the cause of the triumph 
shining in that she-wolf’s eyes. Trepoff was pale as death 
— and he could not falter a moment now. Yes! the pa- 
pers in his hands might be Hermione’s ruin; and to with- 
hold them would mean the loss of his own head! 

Durand had turned quietly, as nothing ever surprised 
her in Russia. She knew it too well now. It was the same 
old scheme, which always wins. Papers introduced into 
an innocent person’s baggage; and no one could deny 
that damning fact! She was lost now! Trepoff and the 
officer seated themselves and unfolded the documents, 
counting them with care. The young Captain seemed 
a military ghost. The expression of Dimitri’s face, too, 
appalled me. He looked like a man signing the death 
warrant of a queen, as he affixed his initials to the papers, 
numbering them and dating them. Great God! Felise 
Dauvray knew all, and would make Trepoff Hermione’s 
betrayer, — and then Plaxo’s triumph! It was the work 
of Hell itself! Yes! in the cell, alone with Haxo, she 
would plead for mercy — on what terms? The young 
Captain did the same, and even his stolid face grew sol- 
emn as he used the pen unwillingly. The work of a pre- 
condemnation of an innocent woman! Yes! this was a 
sweet revenge! But, the Captain blushed. He was not 
a hardened butcher yet! He was still young. Standing 
at the table was Mademoiselle Dauvray, gloating over 


FOR HER LIFE. 


227 


the scene. I could have throttled her; but I caught 
Major Trepoff’s warning eye. It told me of hope - 
even against hope, — now! “You read Russian, Made- 
moiselle ?” coldly said Dimitri. His voice had a far-off 
sound. He was undergoing the ordeal of those pitiless 
French eyes, the scorned woman, whom his friend had 
wronged. 

“No, sir; I understand enough to speak, but I do not 
read and write it yet.” Her voice was measured, but her 
eyes could not disguise the triumph of a mean soul with 
an enemy at its mercy. She did not read Russian. Then, 
how did she know the fatal contents? — for, her face told 
its own story of the one blissful victory of a whole life. 
Behind her there, stood Durand, who had risen noiseless- 
ly, and, with her eyes solemnly fixed on me, she traced 
a death-cross in the air, standing hidden behind the gov- 
erness, thus silently devoting her to the infernal gods. 
Ah! Great God! I joyed in that ominous threatening 
finger! The Mosaic law! The woman was now under 
the sword of Damocles ! It was clear to me in an instant. 
The governess had gained the time in her capacity of 
housekeeper to probably introduce some artisan spy dis- 
guised as a house servant! The key had been made, or 
else Helene’s duplicated! Perhaps her keys had been 
stolen as she slept. Was this last possible! No, she 
would detect it. Our night at the opera flashed over me. 
There was time then. The rooms were untenanted for 
hours. Yes! that unlucky night! It was in that long 
evening the work had been done, and the papers could 
easily have been introduced while we were away. But 
the story was hidden now! Hermione had not seen the 
documents that night when she replaced her jewels! 
They were found under the bottom of the tray. It was a 
piece of dastardly, damnable work! The whole plot was 
now clear to me. The governess had warned General 
Haxo of our impending departure, which he could not 
officially prevent ! Thanks to MouraviefFs influence, we 
had our papers in order. No evidence beyond that of a 
mere foolish adventure was treasured against Hermione 
up to that time— a private love affair would have ex- 
plained all away. Her marriage with Trepoff sealed its 


228 


FOR HER LIFE. 


truth. But the spy Radzivill was to insult Hermione, 
and quarrel with Serge! We would be arrested and de- 
tained. The search would be then made and all the 
papers found! They had closed up all the links of the 
chain! Horrible! Possibly Radzivill was also to swear 
against the beauty on the trial, and then the papers would 
finish the ruin of my poor companion — my extra sister ! 
Once in the fortress, her trial rushed through, Haxo 
could detain her in some lonely prison — at his mercy. 
But, Serge’s deadly aim broke up the first programme. 
Still, the sly French woman had notified the General that 
the incriminating papers were all safely introduced into 
the casket! So, the Chief himself took personal charge 
of the affair. It was his only chance now to get a crim- 
inal hold on Hermione, to search her rooms. 

Dimitri’s face told me the whole story. Were the pa- 
pers veritable? I could not tell. But, of what use to 
argue, when I could see the papers would hang a pris- 
oner! And, Trepoff’s Grand Duke was a stern foe of all 
conspiracy. 

Durand moved around noiselessly, arranging little 
things. She had some secret scheme, I could see; every 
moment was precious now. The papers were sealed in a 
packet and Dimitri, as well as the Captain, wrote their 
initials over the seals in silence. There seemed to be a 
new taint in the air — the poisoned air of the Neva! 

; The remaining jewels were listed, and the two lists 
compared and . signed. I could not read Dimitri Trep- 
off’s gravely solemn face; but neither could Felise Dauv- 
ray. It was a marvel of self-repression. All was over. 
Trepoff pocketed the key. There was now no excuse for 
delay. The Major looked very significantly at me as he 
said, dryly, gazing directly into her gray eyes, “Made- 
moiselle, you direct the whole household, do you not?” 
“1 do, principally,” was her quiet reply, but she winced 
under his gaze. “Who has had access to these rooms ex- 
cept Monsieur Grahame and the lady herself?” he ques- 
tioned. “No one but the servant and the maid who al- 
ways waited on madame,” she replied. “Are they in the 
house now?” was the next question, Felise was very un- 
easy now, “Yes, sir,” calmly rejoined the goyerness, as 


FOR HER LIFE. 


229 


she rose, in an apparent respect for his orders. “Please 
favor me with calling them here at once, and identifying 
them in my presence!” continued the Major, pleasantly. 
“I want their names. This is a very serious matter!” 
The governess dropped her gray eyes modestly. 

This was done. The man I knew was safe. The wo- 
man was also an old house servant and devoted to the 
Zastrows. Their names were duly taken. 

“Are these all who would have a right here?” said 
Trepoff. “All, except myself,” said the cold French wo- 
man, looking the Major steadily in the eye. She had 
the nerve of a duellist of the old regime. “Ah! I see,” 
said the inquisitor, carelessly, “you always had access!” 
There was a slight emphasis which brought a red spot 
flaming to her cheeks. “Mademoiselle, you can now 
leave us. Your identification of the papers in this pack- 
age and the circumstance of our finding them is all that 
I ask you to remember!” She bowed in silence. “Will 
you please give orders to have these two women properly 
treated. They will both stay here to-night. I wish to re- 
move all these articles to-morrow.” “Certainly, Mon- 
sieur,”— she bowed, and then withdrew with a cold air 
and a scornful glance in my direction. She seemed a 
misplaced queen — one very sure of her coming into her 
kingdom. How would Haxo reward her? Gold, or what 
high return? “You may go down below. I will send 
for you to-morrow morning,” said Dimitri, after ques- 
tioning the second woman as to her own passport pa- 
pers and residence, as well as her past references. The 
poor frightened servant told her modest history. She 
truthfully gave these, and they both withdrew. It is only 
honesty which trembles in these fin de siecle days. Major 
Trepoff rang the bell. My man appeared. Ah! a friend 
near me at last — an active friend — one to trust. So Du- 
rand’s eyes told me again. “Have a dinner served in 
this room for the Captain,” said he. “Serve Monsieur 
Grahame in the other room at once! Don’t forget to 
obey all his orders — even the slightest!” The man bowed 
to the floor. “Immediately, sir,” was his reply, as he 
scuttled away. Trepoff sighed and then walked into the 
other room. He fingered his sword hilt. His hands 


230 


FOR HER LIFE. 


were not used to such dirty business. Still, his change 
of position — for the Captain was forced, on his honor, to 
watch us while there with him — was a godsend to me. 
I followed him, and sat down at his side. I was utterly 
crushed! I had the unread letter hidden in my stocking, 
and thence I expected to gain important news. How 
could even friendly nobles of the highest rank avail 
against such treachery! Hermione’s fate hung upon 
those papers. She was doomed, even before trial! “It 
looks black,” said Trepoff, quietly. “That French wo- 
man put these papers in the box. I must turn them in to 
Haxo. They are very dangerous proof! Of course, the 
Captain has the list. We have jointly marked all.” “Can’t 
you do anything?” I anxiously queried. “Destroy the 
proofs, or foil the scheme!” “Not now! — nothing yet! 
I must think — must see Serge, too. I will go to dinner, 
and wait for General Haxo. It will be a week or so be- 
fore the trial. The moment Haxo lets me go, I will work 
night and day! But, this will cause you to be tempo- 
rarily imprisoned! I will see you later. I stay here. 
Keep up courage! Say nothing! You are only involved! 
— nothing else ! The Legation will have to stand by you ! 
But, Hermione’s life hangs on a hair now!” 

He went away heavy-hearted, for the bundle of papers 
was a crushing weight on his breast, and he was officially 
compelled to tie a halter around the neck of the woman 
he loved. I could not understand his self-control. My 
dinner was soon on the table. I was tired and weary, 
and I could not eat. Russia had made my appetite a very 
capricious delusion. I only wanted travel. I took a 
little soup, a bit of fowl, and drank off a goblet of wine 
— for I must keep up appearances, too. Then I ad- 
dressed myself to a cup of coffee and a cigar. What was 
Trepoff’s plan! He had one; but must first get rid of 
his formal duty here. The man returned with the Cap- 
tain’s dinner. Soon he was busied satisfying his heavy 
animal nature. I had finally read the secret of the whole 
affair. Haxo had only used the government to betray 
Hermione into his own hands! He cared for nothing 
else. 

My man returned. He looked at the table. “Don’t 


FOR HER LIFE. 


231 


neglect the bread, sir,” said the man, significantly, in a 
whisper, as he placed his finger on his lip. There was a 
new thankfulness in my heart for “daily bread.” I seized 
the loaf, with a look of mute thanks. The clatter of 
dishes told me that the Captain was now happy. The 
man was liberally pouring his wine. I tore the long loaf 
open. A slip of paper was folded therein. I read my 
good Durand’s last note. Brave, quick-witted comrade! 
I began to envy that shadowy lover — who had seen her 
at her best. The note read: 

“The governess put the papers in the box. Trust to 
the woman I leave. She speaks French. I will be linger- 
ing at hand outside the prison. They might, perhaps, 
know me there. Work strongly on Major Trepoff. I 
will communicate with you later. Let me know by the 
man- what General Haxo directs to-night. Give him a 
note. He will bring you coffee late. We are all working 
for our friend. We can get notes safely to her as soon as 
we know where she is placed in the fortress. Money will 
do its work, even there. We have friends, too. I will 
be there to-morrow. General Haxo only wants her in 
his power. I will direct you what to do. Destroy this. 
You need not fear for a final result. Haxo will not fol- 
low you up. But — the governess. t” 

The note ended with an ominous cross. 

I quickly relit my cigar with the twisted paper, and 
saw the last scrap consumed. I drew out from my shoe 
the other, for I was safe now. It was also short. 

“Trepoff and your friends must find some way for you 
to let Hermione know we of the order are working for 
her. Her letter with its signs is understood. Every one 
is true. We have some friends in the fortress garrison. 
We will avenge her fearfully, if any wrong is done to her. 
We will watch over you. Be silent. Interest all your 
family friends, the whole connection, for clemency. 
Reach the Emperor and Empress if you can. Trust the 
man; I will open communication with both of you. The 
French woman dies, if she testifies against Hermione. 
She is under a sentence now. We want to get her in our 


232 


FOR HER LIFE. 


hands, and torture the truth out of her ) Leave her to us. 
Work night and day for Hermione's pardon — for she 
will, of course, be convicted. They always convict.” 

I reduced this also to ashes, and lay down to rest. 
The hours dragged on slowly to nine o'clock, and the 
Captain’s jolly friendship with the bottle kept me awake. 
At half-past nine, the door opened. I was resting and 
listening to the merrymakers flying by outside. I felt a 
little relieved as Durand’s active energy recurred to me, 
and, also, by the hovering watchful aid of the “order.” 

My personal safety was now also hazarded by these 
infamous documents. I would demand my rights as an 
American. I thought of my lawyer and of the Legation. 
But, oh! for the banks of the Schuylkill. Yet, I had a 
score to settle there now. The Captain sat drowsily in the 
open doorway of the next room and stolidly watched me. 
My situation was indeed miserable. I appreciated all the 
troubles of the hour! Madeleine! Justine! — the one sick 
and crushed, the other dead to my dangerous position, 
and deaf to my entreaties! The man brought coffee. 
I gave him a note. “Thanks! All right!” — these three 
words were all I dared to write. A knock at the door! 
General Haxo entered with an aide — a stranger. Major 
Trepoff followed. And here I was abandoned by my two 
sisters, and a disgrace to my host. Yes, Serge’s dash- 
ing plan had failed. I rose silently. My legal craft stood 
me in good stead here. The cold voice of the Chief pro- 
nounced my immediate punishment. “You will be re- 
moved, sir, under charge of Major Trepoff, to the for- 
tress to-morrow. You can give him an open note with 
any directions you may wish to leave as to your effects. 
It will be the end of his official connection with this af- 
fair. I only allowed him to act here to spare General 
Zastrow all possible annoyance. For the present, he can 
communicate with you at the prison, and bring you 
news of your sisters and your affairs. I leave you in his 
charge for to-night.” He turned to go away. I ad- 
vanced a step firmly and faced him. “May I ask what 
I am accused of?” said I, carefully restraining any feel- 
ing. I had lost all that buoyant spread eagleism which 
I brought to the Neva. ‘‘You will know at the fortress 


FOR HER LIFE. 


233 


to-morrow! Your case will be taken up at once,” was 
the reply; “and you will have your Minister to appeal to, 
besides.” “Can I have my lawyer see me and communi- 
cate at once with the American Legation?” I firmly con- 
tinued. The General seemed a little touched by my at- 
titude. “You can make a formal request to that effect to 
the Governor of the prison. He will send for you and 
question you. I presume you will have no trouble as to 
that.” I bowed in silence, and the General raised his 
eyes from a study of Hermione’s vacated apartments. 
The three officers went away, for I ceased as I saw fur- 
ther talk was useless. In a few moments Dimitri Trepoff 
returned. His face was very grave. “Madeleine is se- 
riously ill,” he said. “I am sorry to say that she has 
every symptom of brain fever. Justine Zastrow refuses 
to speak as regards your case. I presume it is only fear 
— in her case. She trusts to your own legal ability, I 
presume. But, General Zastrow goes to the Winter Pal- 
ace to-morrow. He will ask an audience at once of the 
Emperor! His wife will make your people comfortable! 
The papers found in Hermione’s box are, however, of a 
fearful significance! General Haxo will make the most 
of them in court! You will undoubtedly be tried first: 
and all that may be developed in your case, — will then 
be used against that poor woman! Vera — her parents 
and the Mouravieffs, — are now our only hope to save 
you from a disgraceful imprisonment! If you will keep 
as silent as you can, and are simply submissive, you will 
probably be nominally sentenced to a short confinement, 
but only sent over the frontier under guard! They will 
remit that, I think, after trying you — only to condemn 
her! This is Haxo’s plan. Your sisters will receive ev- 
ery courtesy by the especial order of the Minister of the 
Interior. Haxo took pains to tell me that he did not 
know how they came here! Some enemies of your clients, 
he suggests. General Zastrow and his wife may be ques- 
tioned, but they will not suffer. Serge will not be called 
to account at all for that scoundrel’s death. The Minis- 
ter had that whole matter before the privy council. It 
is dropped! So, Grahame, — your generous attitude at 
Serge’s instance, has tied you down ; for, my poor friend, 


234 


FOR HER LIFE. 


you can not tell the truth — and — ruin us all! It was a 
fatal mistake!” The kindly man hesitated and stopped. 
I knew his forebodings. 

“And, Hermione! Trepoff! — tell me her fate,” I mur- 
mured. “For myself, I care not, now!” He spoke like 
a man in a dream. 

“If I did not live to either free her — or avenge her,” 
he slowly said, “I would kill myself to-night, — after 
shooting Haxo!” 

“Death! — is her doom!” was the last word, as he 
wrung my hand and went out with eyes clouded with bit- 
ter tears. “Unless Vera can reach the Empress! — and, 
my God! — it is a forlorn hope!” — he sobbed. 

One sister perhaps dying, — the other already fore- 
doomed to be followed up for my foolish conduct! I was 
a nice, considerate brother! I slept in abject misery. 


CHAPTER IX. 

MY TRIAL! DIMITRI’S QUEST! SEEKING A LOCKSMITH. 

I awoke from the troubled dreams of night. The deep 
sleep of absolute exhaustion brought me no relief. My 
man was already stirring in the room. Thick curtains 
shut out a heavy snowstorm, and the lights were all burn- 
ing. It was my black day! The attendant had touched 
me lightly and pressed a billet in my hands, as I awoke. 
I glanced at its few words. They recalled my troubles — 
past — and to come! 

“Send me any news up to your leaving by the man. 
I shall see him to-night. Durand.” So, I had, at least, 
one friend — when my sisters abandoned me. I instantly 
destroyed it and nodded. The waiter left. It was eight 
o’clock now. My Muscovite police guardian was al- 
ready stirring outside the door. His breakfast soon 
made its appearance. He then resumed his duty of look- 
ing after his own comfort; satisfying himself of my pres- 
ence by looking in occasionally. Soon my man served 
my last morning meal at the Zastrows. With great 


FOR HER LIFE. 


235 


thoughtfulness, it was a liberal one, the usual courtesy 
to the condemned. Not a cheerful omen! The “Roman- 
off Restaurant” in the fortress was not equal to the Zas- 
trow cuisine, by general report. I was now to try it. I 
was leisurely sipping my coffee and thinking over my 
immediate cares and dangers, when Major Trepoff en- 
tered. He greeted me heartily, and proceeded at once 
to business. His face was that of a man who had not 
slept ! 

“Make out a skeleton list of your effects,” said he. 
“Take an ordinary portmanteau of traveling wear. I will 
now dispatch the woman, and the goods, after the doc- 
tor comes. I have to send the Captain over with her. 
Then, I will see all in this house, — and give you a last 
morning report. Take all the papers in your trunk. 
They will be called for. I have been out at work all 
night!” he whispered, — with haggard eyes. 

“You can make a note of what you want me to do!” 
He nodded and disappeared. 

“Every moment is golden!” he said. “I must save 
her!” 

I busied myself with the man and arranged to accept 
“the Czar’s invitation,” as forcibly extended by General 
Haxo, “to spend a few days at one of his many family 
castles!” — a most unexpected favor — quite undeserved, 
too! I hoped the visit would not be a very long one! 
It might be! All was ready. I waited with impatience 
for news from the dear, broken-hearted Madeleine, — on 
her bed of pain. But, how could I justify myself now with- 
out exposing Serge and Dimitri? — the secret of Hermione 
must be kept. Did she know all my danger? No! Thank 
God! Hours passed on. It was nearly noon. Trepoff 
was still absent. I divined his secret labors for both of 
us. The jingle of sleighs coming and going was inces- 
sant. The house was like a guard station. I rang for 
the man and asked him the reason. 

“Very many friends of the General are calling and send- 
ing cards,” was his reply. “The story is all over Peters- 
burg now, — so, Major Trepoff’s man tells me!” Ah! 
Ruin! So, the old nobility were rallying around poor 
Michael Zastrow. The tidings had been, of course, 


236 


FOR HER LIFE. 


well spread by the adroit “Dauvray” woman! — coach- 
man, hair dresser and upper servants are the Figaros of 
the gay City of Peter! The Dvornik, too, gets all the 
news, away, via the servants’ hall and lady’s maid, — with 
the watchful valet! Any interesting intelligence flies like 
the wind! And, now — Plermione’s whole secret would 
filter out! She was lost — beyond all hope! I shuddered 
for Trepoff’s mind! I was glad of this general expres- 
sion of confidence in General Zastrow’s household! This 
was the only mute protest allowable to his many friends. 
Cold, bleak, wintry darkness hung like a pall without, — 
only the snow-mantled parapet of the river banks was 
visible, with the dark waters beyond flaked with tum- 
bling cakes of ice! And, Hermione was locked beyond 
that tide! Alone — helpless! What a day! Trouble and 
suffering within! Gloom without and poor Hermione 
powerless in the grasp of the Russian Bear! 

My thoughts wandered away to the pleasant blue 
mountains of Pennsylvania, where the nodding pines 
sing their song of wind-waked music, in the free air of 
America. Ah! Yes! I saw clearly — a Philadelphian 
should not wander! Why leave dear old Slumbertown? 
The star-flowered flag was kissing every breeze proudly 
there! Would I ever greet its gleaming glories again? 
It was at least doubtful, — so my logical mind summed 
up this most interesting case, — my own. Dimitri Trepoff 
returned, briskly. 

“I will now dispatch the Captain and the woman, with 
the baggage for Hermione. I have seen all. Your sister 
is still very sick.” He gave his last directions to the Cap- 
tain, who then rang and caused the boxes for Plermione 
to be taken down to the interior court. There a sleigh, 
with an agent, and a baggage conveyance, waited for 
them. The two women were directed to report to Major 
Trepoff. They came up to Hermione’s room and were 
now ready for any service. I detained the breakfast ser- 
vice and prepared writing material, to as to be able to 
give my man a note for Durand. My last “outside” let- 
ter! The busy Trepoff proceeded to inform me of af- 
fairs. 

“AH is generally quiet. Serge able to move around, 


FOR HER LIFE. 


237 


Vera and her mother with your ladies. Madeleine too 
sick to be told of your present danger. She is out of her 
head! Write a note and leave with me for her. Don’t 
excite her by any explanation. The General will go 
to- the palace to-day, on an audience. He has been noti- 
fied to appear at the fortress at ten to-morrow, as a wit- 
ness on your trial. All the others are excused except 
him. Thank Heaven! the ladies will not be dragged into 
it. Your sister Justine will see you in the parlor 
before you go! The other ladies have all been talking 
to her ! Of course, she will forgive you — she must ! Zas- 
trow will tell me .the result of his audience. I will see 
you early to-morrow before your trial and report. For, 
I am then free, and will get a few days’ leave from the 
Grand Duke. You know what for! So, I will now dis- 
patch these people.” 

While Trepoff went in and informed the sewing wom- 
an of her duty, and told her he would protect her and 
see her well paid, I wrote my brief scrawl to Durand. I 
was careful in so doing, for I had lost all faith in man- 
hood — and — womanhood, too — especially the latter. So 
I wrote: 

“I am to go over soon to the fort. I will be tried to- 
morrow. Probably will be expelled from the country or 
imprisoned. Major Trepoff will know all. H. will be 
tried at once after me, I suppose. Watch the French- 
woman. Do all you can for Madame Hermione. Rally 
every friend, — we are all at work here. W. G.” 

I rang the bell and then slipped the note under the 
tray. The man nodded significantly, and went out into 
the hall. He returned and removed the service used by 
the Captain. Durand very kindly assisted him with the 
tray. I knew the note had changed hands! I walked to 
the door and caught her eye. She had received it. The 
Captain now reported all ready. The woman departed, 
leaving Durand in the room. The party soon left 
quietly for the fortress with the baggage. And, I was 
the next victim! 

“You may remain till the housekeeper comes,” said 


238 


FOR HER LIFE. 


the Major to the watchful Durand. “Stay down below !” 
She nodded and smiled. Trepoff said: “I wish to con- 
fer with Serge/’ — and he went out, leaving a mute agent 
seated in the room with the faithful dressmaker, who 
lingered — trying to reach me — alone! 

I sat down and wrote my own dear suffering Made- 
leine a letter, which recalled our very happiest days. I 
left no tender chord untouched. I promised her to fully 
explain my position, when released, in a manner worthy 
of her love and our years of unbroken peace. It was a 
sad task, this letter! My own work, all this! And yet, 
I could not implicate Serge. With all my poor eloquence, 
I begged her to remember that I could not talk freely 
till we were out of “Holy Russia.” I claimed her confi- 
dence and the old love. “Even your own interests and 
Justine’s future are tied up in my safety,” I reminded her. 
I was now ready to accept the Czar’s hospitality. I await- 
ed the summons. In an hour and a half a sleigh dashed 
up with the Captain, who took his post in the room. This 
was my formal departure — an honored guest — publicly 
dragged away under a military police guard! Major Tre- 
poff returned and rang for the man, asking him to sum- 
mon Mademoiselle Dauvray. She appeared. My goods 
were removed in silence. The Major spoke, with the 
perfect courtesy of a grand seigneur: 

“Mademoiselle, it is my duty to take charge of all the 
effects in these rooms. As superintending generally this 
house, I now desire you to observe that I shall seal these 
rooms up and I desire no one to be permitted to enter 
them or touch any of the boxes left here, — which are 
now also sealed. That is all. I will remove the jewel case 
now!” 

The governess rose and, quietly bowing, left the room 
with a cold, deadly sneer on her thin lips, as she noted 
my care-worn face. It seemed to say, “The right man 
in the right place !” I thought of Radzivill, — was" his hos- 
tile ghost hunting me down? Major Trepoff directed 
the Captain and one agent to deposit the seized jewel 
case in the bank in his name. It had done its work. No 
one would tamper with it now. They departed. One 
agent was left in general charge of the house, with strict- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


239 


est orders not to converse with any one as to his official 
duty. Dimitri whispered to me, “Remember! Be pa- 
tient! I will bring Vera up to see you now. We will 
then depart!” Major Trepoff was formally severe as he 
told the man to take my wraps and small articles down 
to the ante-room ! 

I spoke to Durand, who sat watchful of all these hap- 
penings. “Will you bring me a glass of water?” said I. 

“Certainly,” — and she went down stairs. I walked then 
into my own apartment, where she followed me. She 
understood my ruse. As she returned, she whispered: 
“All our friends are safe. There is no other evidence 
against Hermione except that she devil’s. Any papers 
found in the box are old ones picked out of former seiz- 
ures. We have changed everything now. The governess 
is watched night and day. Adieu. I go to the fortress!” 
She quietly joined the agent. Dimitri returned and called 
her to his side. 

“My good woman,” said he, “I may need you. Give 
me your name and address. If you want to see me, here 
is my own card. Come any time. You may go now!” 
He tossed her a fifty-rouble note. Both of them had 
played out their farce of the day without detection. 
Even, Dauvray was foiled. The Durand thanked him 
profusely and left at once. I knew that the smart wom- 
an would improve her chances to use Trepoff. She, how- 
ever, went to the fortress, taking her life in her hand. 
In a moment, the light foot of little Countess Vera came 
bounding up the stair. Throwing one sad glance 
around, she passed through Hermione’s room and joined 
us. It was a sorry meeting. Her face was pale, her 
sparkling eyes were very tender, but the roses were com- 
ing back to her cheeks now; — for was her stalwart lover 
not almost well? Her own brave Serge! It would take 
more than the skipping flesh wound to break down that 
hardy sailor, whose lovely nurse was the cause of his 
rapid cure! A man could not but improve under such 
nursing! She hesitated timidly, for our relations were 
much changed! 

“I am so sorry for you and so sorry for,— for,— that 
poor lady.” I could see that my sisters had prejudiced 


240 


FOR HER LIFE. 


her against me. I was in suspicion. I bowed my thanks. I 
could not bear to breathe Hermione's name in scorn, and 
I had now no right to name her under the roof where 
my beloved sister suffered. For, they all thought I had 
a disgraceful secret to hide — an unmanly one. The girl's 
frank eyes were clouded with a mist of tears. “Poor, poor 
foolish woman! My God! To think of her there! 

“I don't believe she is a bad woman;— we were all so 
fond of her!” she faltered. She was embarrassed and 
sought a confirmation in Trepoff's eyes. He bowed in 
assent. For he dared not open the Pandora box of our 
troubles. “Why don’t they let her go away?” she cried, 
and she clasped her hands. “Ah! If I were only the 
Czarina — no one should suffer!” I believed her, but she, 
too,— like the gentle Czarina, might not know. “What 
can we do for you? What can we do to save her? I will 
help her! I know I can help!” said the graceful little 
beauty. 

A sudden thought came to me! The opportunity to 
show my acumen! “Countess Vera,” said I, gravely, 
“you alone can save her life! Your uncle Mouravieff is 
President of the Council. See him and beg Madame 
Komaroff to see him also. Some one put those papers 
in this lady’s jewel case,” said I. “She is no conspirator! 
It was a cruel fraud! A base fraud!” I urged. 

“How could that be?” murmured the girl. 

‘T don't know,” I sadly answered ; “but all will agree 
it would only be a madwoman who would travel in Rus- 
sia with such papers in a jewel case! I, of course, know 
nothing of any such dangerous stuff! She never did!” 

Dimitri was watching me keenly. Did he suspect any 
one? He knew I was not fool enough to have such 
things around me. 

“I will do all I can! Madame Mouravieff comes here 
to-day, and I will see everybody myself. She will go to 
her husband with me,” was the reply of the warm-hearted 
little aristocrat. “You are right, — no sane woman would 
have such death warrants with her here!” 4 

“May God bless you for your kindness! Pray think 
kindly of me and thank your mother and every one for 
their goodness to my Madeleine,” said I. “You can see 


FOR HER LIFE. 


241 


she was trapped into coming here — for some low schem- 
er to ruin the whole family name! It is a hidden re- 
venge!” I could not bear to prolong this interview. I 
did not wish the bright-hearted child to know that I 
would be tried next day before a military court as a crim- 
inal. Walter Grahame, of the Bar — at the bar. 

Major Trepoff said: “Now, let us go!” I kissed the 
sweet girl’s hand, as she went down to her lover, — and — 
took my first step — prisonwards — with an indignant 
heart! I walked out through Hermione’s rooms, to 
leave in public shame and dishonor, the house where her 
beauty and graces had won all hearts ! So much for let- 
ting Captain Serge Zastrow get hold of that unlucky 
expired passport! — a sailor’s rashness! The surround- 
ings spoke eloquently of her dainty presence. I sighed 
in sadness, in bitter sorrow, — as I thought her lovely face 
would never again look out of those casements and see 
the blue Neva sweep to the sea, — the only free thing in 
sight! I tried to fancy the gliding Schuylkill, in its in- 
nocent winter loveliness, — with blue smoke rising on 
the banks from cheerful homes! I could not! Life has 
strange pathways, and the wandering feet of my Fair 
Unknown had led her in devious labyrinths, lured on by 
Pride, Passion, Plate, Love or some Fatal Jack-o’-Lan- 
tern from a palace to the damp casemates of a Russian 
prison. Cui bono? — and, — in my case, — a mistaken gen- 
erosity had made a fool of me! A prayer was on my lips 
for “all prisoners and captives,” as I descended to the 
salon. I had seen those pretty rooms the theater of so 
many fleeting joys, and now a theater of such bitter woe! 
“A most memorable visit — such a nice, quiet visit!” I 
growled. I could not believe yet I was in durance. 
Trepoff said: 

“The sleigh is at the door! Now — Justine will join 
you here. She does not know yet you are going to the 
fortress. You must tell her yourself!” I sat down. My 
troubled sister Justine then came in slowly. Doubt and 
sadness on her brow. I greeted her with my warmest 
tenderness. Yet, I could not explain! Her eyes were 
tear-laden as she told me of Madeleine’s great sufferings. 
She then began vague reproaches which almost broke 
16 


242 


FOR HER LIFE. 


my heart! I could not bear this added misery, and I 
said, sternly: 

“I am not able to tell you all now. You will know 
more before I see you again. My last love to Made- 
leine!” I turned to the door. The poor woman suffered 
keenly. For, the truth flashed on her now ! She sprang 
forward and threw her loving arms around me. The 
touch of danger to me had melted the thin ice over her 
own dear heart. 

“You are going!” she cried; “where?” 

“To the fortress prison,” I desperately said, as I un- 
wound her clinging arms. I called to the delicate-mind- 
ed Trepoff, who had slipped out of sight, “Ready, Ma- 
jor !” 

“Taking him away? I shall go mad!” cried Justine 
Zastrow. The frightened woman threw herself on a 
chair. Her broken sobbing was the last sound I heard 
in that house, into which Hermione’s light foot had 
brought such general misery. I wrapped myself in my 
furs and walked into the keen, cutting outer air, for that 
nice, agreeable officially-escorted sleigh ride. Major 
Trepoff gayly took a seat by my side. The outsiders 
must not know, of course. The driver lashed up the 
horses! With great consideration, my luggage was al- 
ready sent another way. The Czar’s people were certain- 
ly polite. We dashed up the Nadijenskaya drive, along 
the granite parapet of the river. 

Merry parties flew by; officers and club men nodding 
kindly to Trepoff as they darted past, the ladies peeping 
out of their fleecy furs to smile on the popular soldier. 
We were supposed to be enjoying ourselves! Delightful 
fiction! I did not care to talk. The palaces and stately 
mansions were all passed by soon ! The superb gardens 
of the Winter Palace were now desolate. Tender trees 
and the voluptuous statues were all comically swathed 
in twisted straw bands. Venus needed a bit of help 
against the Borean blasts. Pedestrians were briskly 
tramping along. Hundreds of snow-shovelers were clear- 
ing the sidewalks, as is the custom there for all the win- 
ter, as it amuses the populace and keeps them out of a 
warm prison. The cold air soon revived me ! The blood 


FOR HER LIFE. 


243 


coursed through my veins like fire, and I felt more like 
a man. I began to be enraged. Action of any kind, — 
bracing up nerve and muscle, — was better than the hor- 
rid suspense of that doomed house! I could at least 
struggle — for my sadly forfeited freedom! Trepoff was 
grave and quiet. We were now approaching the boat 
bridge, and the streets were all deserted. I debated as to 
whether I should tell him now of my stolen let- 
ters! “No! Let him help her!” I decided. “I can wait!” 

“The General asked me to say he was not able to say 
good-bye to you, or permit his wife or little Olga to do 
so! General Haxo’s orders were most strict! I violated 
my own duty to permit you to see your sister. Don’t 
blame them! There are spies in all these family houses. 
General Zastrow has to risk a good deal himself in the 
audience to-day at the palace. Haxo has had the first 
chance to report and prejudice the Emperor’s mind. He 
will do all he can. And, — every family here has its jealous 
enemies! It is the same the world over!” 

“Major,” said I, “I am sensible of the trouble I have 
unwittingly brought on the dear old hero and all your 
family. But, I am in a false position. You know I suffer 
for you!” — he groaned and bowed his head. “I can ex- 
plain by-and-by. I am sure you would have acted better 
alone to try and save Hermione. Captain Zastrow was 
foolishly precipitate. We should all have understood 
the scheme better. Now, I can only plead that I am an 
American and a stranger and defenseless in as strange 
a land as Russia! This may avail me before the Court, — 
as it is nonsense to think of me risking any connection 
with the discontented. I hope the Czar will reign a thou- 
sand years!” 

“You are right!” replied Trepoff; “I have often 
thought our country must be a queer one, full of pitfalls 
for foreigners, — and — you can urge this.” 

“I certainly have found it so,” I remarked, with some 
little feeling. 

“Well! you will not be kept long!” he mused. “If 
there was only as easy an ordeal for Hermione! My 
God! I shall go mad!” he groaned. 

“By the way, Trepoff; had I better demand my lawyer 


244 


FOR HER LIFE. 


and help from the American Legation at once?” I said, 
as we trotted along. My journey was nearing its end. 
There was the fortress before me — my hotel ! 

“I think so. I will advise you to-morrow. I will be 
on hand early. Keep silent — for this afternoon. Don't 
speak if you can avoid it. They won't try to involve you! 
They only want her — poor darling!” His eyes blazed in 
a strange fire. I dared not follow his thoughts. I was 
silent. We were now on the bridge. The boats support- 
ing the roadway, though heavily anchored, pitched and 
tossed wildly! The long bridge swayed, bending with its 
weight of snow in the chilly wind. We left the city shore 
and I looked back at the picturesque row of palaces and 
princely houses lining the river bank. I silently cursed 
its whole police and administrative system — on the 
wholesale plan. High, soaring over all, the golden dome 
of St. Isaac’s was the central figure of the great landscape 
— one I was doomed not to soon forget! Ten minutes 
brought us to the end of the flyinpf bridge, and then we 
glided swiftly down the crooked streets of the suburb 
which nestles around the great fortress! Yes! My hotel 
doors were always open — day and night! It was liberal- 
ly patronized and kept up on a grand scale. 

In twenty minutes more, we dashed on the wooden 
temporary bridge over the great moat! Before us was 
the arched gateway, with its guard house at either side. 
Grim artillery was peeping through every embrasure. 
Huge gaping gun-mouths. No way out! I sighed and 
dropped into gloom. From the parapet, over the three 
tiers of casemates, — Gatling guns, and Hotchkiss rapid- 
fire cannon frowned down on our pathway below. Gray- 
coated sentinels, with long skirts flying in the chilling 
breeze, turned up and down wearily on their lofty paths. 
Bronzed gun-barrel and twinkling bayonet twinkled in 
the pale gleams of an afternoon sun. Yes! It looked 
like a very nice, retired hotel — a quiet one — at any rate. 
The passers-by thought we were only a pleasure party 
as we dashed in ! I failed to see my share of the pleasure 
materialize. I was not reported, at the gate, as prisoners 
.usually are, but Trepofl returned the salute of the guard 


FOR HER LIFE. 


245 


and then ordered the driver to proceed to the Command- 
ant’s quarters! 

The huge pentagon encloses two hundred acres, and 
once within its high granite-backed walls, — all external 
view is excluded! Magazines, the lofty keep, shot fur- 
naces, covered ways, barracks, officers’ quarters and the 
great Imperial church fill a part of the interior. The ex- 
ercise grounds are ample. There is sufficient room left 
to parade and drill a whole brigade, as several thousand 
choice troops are always stationed here! From five hun- 
dred to a thousand political prisoners and suspects also 
crowd the three tiers of casemates, used for cells. My 
hotel was well patronized! The celebrated “lower tier” 
is always flooded when the river rises! A very convenient 
“clearing-house” process, in fact automatic. They 
tell queer stories of some of the boarders, men and wom- 
en, too, being left there by accident. Many a poor devil’s 
skeleton is found, still in the inexorable chains, gnawed 
to the bone by the ferocious marsh rats, driven into these 
lower cells, by the flood. It saves spoiling good paper 
with bad legal conclusions in some debatable cases! The 
case closes itself! 

From this “hell on earth,” where a summary court 
sits, on a signal sent through the underground wire and 
cable leading to the palace and departments, across the 
river, the wail of helpless humanity rises unheeded, and 
invokes the vengeance of a just God! These little affairs 
recall the Bastile, Bombay’s dungeons and the hospitali- 
ties of Olmutz and Magdeburg! — all royal hotels! Over 
the arched entrance, the platform of rough planks, used 
for public executions, is always in place. A heavy beam 
is permanently fixed there! The hangman quickly places 
the fatal noose around the victim’s neck, and then pushes 
off the helpless wretch to strangle to death. The regular 
old homespun Jack Ketch style suffices here! Within 
the marble church of the fortress, rests under the great 
pinnacled minarets, the Imperial dust of Russia’s many 
dead sovereigns! Pomp and blazonry, silver lamp and 
jeweled shrine, with guards of honor pacing under the 
incense-perfumed groins, can not hide the historic hor- 
rors of the grim record of these marble tombs! But 


246 


FOR HER LIFE. 


before one grim tribunal, we all meet at last, where ar- 
gument is vain — and coronets are laid aside forever! 
Poison, the knife, strangulation and all violence, foul 
or open, have filled most of these proud tombs! The 
last huge sarcophagus holds a few fragments of what 
was once the mighty Czar Alexander, slain by the “Or- 
der of Madmen!” “Executed for his crimes!” was the 
grim nihilist record. The record of a crazed — desperate, 
homeless faction of the whole world’s rebels. 

Such is the gloomy interior of the fortress on the Neva, 
whose guns absolutely command the river! Here, 
trained hordes are ready to march out and tramp down 
insurrection by day or night! All “in the name of the 
law.” The sleigh stopped. Trepoff said: 

“Keep calm; your stay here will not be long! Do not 
lose your temper! You can do much to shorten your 
stay!” I nodded, but very feebly. I was a doubting 
Thomas. I was prepared in spirit, yet I shiv- 
ered as I stepped out — for I was a free man no 
more! Across my mind darted the horrid tales, whis- 
pered to me, or read in fugitive books, of foul play here! 
Was I going to be a permanent boarder — or the victim 
of strange accident? Men strangled, women subjected 
to worse than death, and mysterious sudden sickness, 
causing a convenient mortality in the ranks of specially 
dangerous suspects here, recurred to me! I was an ag- 
nostic. We entered the orderly room. Major Trepoff 
sent up his own card. A sub-officer returned soon and 
conducted us into the presence of the artillery General 
Davidoff, — commanding this great stronghold. He was 
not outwardly a terrible object to behold; — for he was 
a refined, soldierly-looking man! He sat, with several 
juniors around him. The samovar and cigarette tray 
were not far distant. Major Trepoff officially reported. 
He briefly stated that he now delivered me to the Com- 
mandant, under the orders of General Ivan Haxo. The 
official circle mildly investigated me with curious glances. 
I stood mutely cursing the whole outfit, as the cowboys 
have it. The General spoke : 

“I am very sorry to see an American in trouble here! 
Major Trepoff. I am ordered, however, to permit you 


FOR HER LIFE. 


247 


to see this prisoner at all times on your reporting to the 
officer of the day, here, your arrival and departure. You 
may now accompany him to the casemate. The Brigade 
Major will take charge now of the suspect.” 

I was about to speak. A warning look from Dimitri 
restrained me. I followed the officer, who touched my 
arm. I bowed to the General — who seemed to pity me. 
Trepoff silently accompanied us. A few score of paces 
brought us to the door of a flanking casemate of the 
great work! It faced the dark river. I had hoped that 
I would be able to look out. There was no portico to 
my hotel. It was severely plain. On arriving I had seen 
a half-score of fluttering white signals waved by despair- 
ing ones within, — in the wild, egotistic dream that some 
loved one might know of their location! The final desire 
of the doomed not to be utterly forgotten. The sentinel’s 
musket rang, as he presented arms to the two field offi- 
cers. I looked at the sun in farewell, and then submis- 
sively entered the cheerless stone vaults. I was now a 
guest! We stopped at a guard room, after climbing sev- 
eral stairs. A sub-officer then took down a key, after 
some colloquy in Russian, in which Trepoff quietly 
joined. He knew the Brigade Major well, and gave me 
a hopeful glance. We soon reached a double room, con- 
ducted by the jailer. It looked out on the river and was 
the chamber planned for two flank defense guns, and sep- 
arated by pillars into alcoves. Not such bad rooms in 
my secluded retreat! It was decently furnished in bar- 
rack or hospital style. I noted, a severe style — an ab- 
sence of gaudy ornament. The gun ports admitted light, 
being closed with windows. A sheer descent of fifty 
feet into the enormous ditch seemed to cut off all es- 
cape, yet bold and desperate men had here found liberty, 
at the risk of being dashed to pieces or drowned. Some 
were shot by the swarming sentinels on the outworks. 
So I had learned, on my tourist visit — some months be- 
fore I became a regular boarder. I sat down. Trepoff 
interpreted, and asked me the usual formal questions; 
my name, age, nationality, and a general description was 
taken. These answers were compared with a copy of 
my passport, previously sent over; and I was now proper- 


248 


FOR HER LIFE. 


ly on the Hotel Register! The Brigade Major had re- 
turned to his office. All was over! I was really now a 
prisoner! Trepoff told me that I was only required to 
behave with ordinary prudence! My baggage would 
be sent to me at once,— when all the papers were ex- 
amined and listed. 

“Now, Grahame, what can I do for you,” said Trepoff, 
“for, I am free to act?” I spoke: 

“Firstly, have a man set over me who speaks French, 
— if possible. Secondly, find out my charge at once, — 
the Minister is absent, and demand on my behalf, the 
privilege of sending for my lawyer, Federoff, and daily 
to the American Legation. Of course, I expect due time 
to prepare for my trial, such as it may be.” He nodded. 
“Last (and here my voice faltered), Major Trepoff, very 
strange things have happened in this place!” (He bowed 
quietly.) “Here is a letter for my sister Madeleine, — if 
I should be taken suddenly ill, — and here, my directions 
to you. I confide in your honor as a man and relative. 
There is a letter there to be sent to an address in Phila- 
delphia.” I doubted if it would be even read, now. He 
sprang to his feet. 

“I will act at once. You may count on me to the 
death! If anything should occur, I will see your sister 
Madeleine safely to Paris myself; — for the Zastrows 
might not want her to stay.” His eyes were moist. 

“That is all,” said I. “Leave me, and — for God’s sake, 
— find out what has become of Hermione, and do what 
you can for her. Make Serge help you; he blundered 
us all into the trap.” 

“It is true,” said Trepoff. 

I shuddered as I thought of her helpless loveliness un- 
protected in that Golgotha. I threw myself down on the 
couch as Trepoff pressed my hand and then walked away. 
The door was locked now! I lay there watching the 
grim interior, until, in an hour the Major returned. “If 
he could only get me the right man!” I had a plan! 
With him was a steady-looking non-commissioned offi- 
cer who was able to speak French. He was permitted to 
remain till taps would summon him to his rest, and 
would come daily to interpret, at call, and minister to 


FOR HER LIFE. 


249 


me. My baggage was now borne in. The thoughtful 
Major left some Paris journals and a box of cigars. 
Small comforts! 

“Now for the news! Your charge, I find, is ‘Uttering 
a false passport.’ I can go away at once and get your 
lawyer and some one from the Legation, for my last duty 
is done. I will see the Grand Duke at once. Do you now 
write an official appeal for instant help from the Lega- 
tion. You owe these little relaxations to the personal in- 
tercession of Count Mouravieff. He has already writ- 
ten to Davidoffi So you need fear no foul play,” he 
smiled. “As for Hermione, — her charges are terrible!” 
— (and his voice was husky) — “High treason, false im- 
personation, and also, conspiracy! All these are drawn 
as heavy as they can be made. The hand of this devil 
Plaxo hounds her down to death !” He broke down, and 
his eyes filled with tears. “If I were to kill him, now — 
it would not release her! She is well treated so far, and 
is on the same corridor with you! This I have found 
out. I have a secret friend,” — he winked at me. “Her 
woman is with her. No indignity will be offered her 
yet. She can not be saved, except by the sign manual 
of the Emperor! And, — I fancy Durand will hover very 
near her! Make no sign! Her court is ordered imme- 
diately after yours. Thirteen officers of rank are now 
under orders. General Obranovitch, — the very coldest 
man in our service, — is President. He was called the 
‘Curse of Warsaw/ — when he was the military governor 
there. The Poles all dreaded him. So, Walter, I will 
go now, and after sending my lawyer and an attache 
here, — will go to the Mouravieffs, and see Vera, too, 
and return with a report.” He seized his turban and 

“Hold! Trepoff!” I cried, as he was at the door. “I 
am suffering innocently, for your mad love! I demand 
the return of my sufferings! You must play your part! 
You must, for the love of the woman who bore you, 
save Hermione from a disgraceful death! God will bless 
you for it! Rouse up General Zastrow and the ladies. 
Tell them you know she is innocent! See Mouravieff! 
The two Komaroffs are now deeply moved. Beg Vera 


250 


FOR HER LIFE. 


to aid us now ! Don’t forget your own influence with the 
Grand Duke! If Michael Zastrow was kindly received 
by the Emperor, the ladies may appeal safely to the Em- 
press! Let me know how he was treated! He can say 
the whole thing was a mistake, — that her papers were 
lost, — and the expired passport was only used to help 
her out, not in!” 

“By Heavens! That’s a good point!” cried Dimitri. 
“I swear to you I’ll not sleep, the moment you are safe, 
till I have exhausted every effort to save her. That 
French she devil is the real key to this whole mystery! 
When I am done as a witness in your trial, I am then 
free and can work for her. I will rouse them all. Don’t 
forget! You must answer nothing at all about her! You 
can not be forced to criminate yourself, even here! You 
do not know ! Say the passport was stolen from you by 
some servant! Now, I am off! Good-bye!” 

The gallant fellow clanked away, with the white com- 
mander’s cross he won at Plevna, shining on his manly 
breast. A kinder heart never beat in a soldier’s breast; — 
and — I could see now in every glance how he loved the 
ill-starred Hermione! — and, I hoped for a modified sen- 
tence! As to her conviction — it seemed certain! I was 
alone! Conflicting emotions had exhausted me. This 
last sad news was crushing ! That fair and graceful head 
soon to lie low in a dishonored grave! The beautiful 
inanimate form to be tossed into a ditch by the common 
executioner! Her thrilling voice rang yet in my ears! 
It was a monstrous dream — her present danger — and — 
only our joint effort could hope to save her! Though 
sadness and sorrow was her fatal dower, the fair woman, 
standing on the brink of her open grave, still fascinated 
me. Her impending fate was too horrible! No! she 
did not merit death! But — the innocent suffer with the 
guilty. I threw myself on the rough couch and then slept 
like a log! I told the warden not to wake me till Major 
Trepoff returned. The bed of the “Hotel de Neva” 
agreed with me ! When hours had elapsed, I woke to the 
loud clang of the opening door. Trepoff entered with 
the lawyer and a young attache of the American Lega- 
tion. Lights and writing material were now brought. 


FOR HER LIFE. 


251 


Ah! Friends, — and help at last! But, I hardly cared for 
myself. My heart was beating Hermione — Hermione — 
Hermione! 

The lawyer was experienced enough to listen and only 
watch the faces of the others ! The attache informed me, 
briefly, that the Minister was, as usual, absent! The fre- 
quent custom! The “charge d’affaires” had already called 
on the Minister of the Interior, who sincerely regretted 
my position! He stated that my trial was now forced 
on to impress all foreigners with the importance of the 
passport regulations ! Not to play with the Bear’s claws ! 
He promised to use his good offices to mitigate any com- 
ing penalty! He frankly added that my immediate de- 
parture from Russia would be an instant condition. I 
smiled — I was but too willing! With regard to the case 
of Hermione, he declined even to speak! Her offense 
would be examined before a summary court martial! The 
Minister graciously ordered that the attache should be 
allowed to attend and witness my trial, and then be called 
to establish my honorable American standing as an ad- 
vocate. The young attache had, however, a ball and 
supper to attend! He was eager to go. Slightly yawn- 
ing, he said, carelessly, “Good-night; I’ll be on hand!” 
— and went away, promising positively to attend at ten 
next day — in time to give me all needed aid! I prayed 
that the party might be “a small and early” affair! 
The lawyer briefly ran over all the points with us! My 
defense was to be rested on my ignorance and inexpe- 
rience! I was to ignore Hermione as much as possible 
also, in order to save her! It was decided that I should 
positively refuse to answer any questions tending to 
criminate her, as a conspirator — for of that I could know 
nothing at all. My advocate departed, so as to be with 
me early next day. His advice would be useless as re- 
garded Hermione. The government would assign her 
military counsel. We did not wish my lawyer to delve 
into her history; — and no civilian could act. The advo- 
cate went away shaking his head in prediction of her 
ruin. 

Trepoff and I were now left alone. Each of the depart- 
ing gentlemen had been escorted out by the officer on 


252 


FOR HER LIFE. 


duty. I lit one of Dimitri’s good cigars. He insisted that I 
should drink some wine and eat a little of the untasted 
meal. I began to be a little accustomed to my prison sur- 
roundings. So far, I was “all there!” Trouble had drawn 
us strangely together; — and Trepoff and I seemed to 
have a dual attachment for the lovely stranger. He said, 
as he smoked his cigarette, speaking with effort: 

“You heard how gravely the Minister talked! Well, 
your own affair is only an administrative one! Her- 
mione’s is a case of the Privy Council itself! That is far 
more serious! We have one powerful friend in Moura- 
vieff. Unless we can act with the utmost concert, though, 
Hermione is lost! These sentences of summary courts 
are often executed forthwith. They rush them along. 
The Czar might soften too late ! General Haxo will push 
for an immediate conviction to vindicate his official repu- 
tation, — and — and — ’’(here Trepoff’s voice was broken 
with sobs) — “to get any secrets the executioner can tor- 
ture out of her, the night before. If he could break up 
a new nest of the order— he would get a half a dozen ex- 
tra medals and decorations — and — her plunder.” he 
groaned. My blood froze! I grasped his hands. 

“Trepoff ! do you tell me the condemned are delivered 
over in that way?” — my voice was almost a shriek. 

“It is God’s truth! Oh! If these walls could speak!” 
he ejaculated. “But, we must act — act! If we could only 
catch that French devil napping! The papers! — those 
cursed papers! I tell you, Grahame, I love that woman 
more than life ! I did not know it till I saw her go, — like 
a silent queen — out to face inevitable death! She has a 
soldier’s heart! God be with her! I would die to save 
her! My poor darling!” He buried his face in his 
hands — and sobbed like a child. 

“We must save her yet, Dimitri! Tell me of my sis- 
ters! Are they still bitter towards me?” I said this to 
relieve his mind from the strain, — and mine. 

“Madeleine is weak and low in strength — but bet- 
ter. She will be well in a few days. She knows nothing 
yet, and all at Zastrow’s are now devoted to her. Your 
good Justine sends you this letter! It has been made 
clear to her that only your safety and your manly honor 


FOR HER LIFE. 


253 


has sealed your lips!” He gave me her welcome letter, 
which I tore open and eagerly read. It told me “Vera 
and Madame Komaroff, with our hostess, have been all 
this afternoon with Countess Mouravieff. The power- 
ful Count will move heaven and earth, though he can’t 
talk and promise much yet. He bears General Haxo no 
especial good will. I know Mouravieff will delay plac- 
ing the seal of the Privy Council on Hermione’s death 
warrant” — (he broke down again) — “till we have had all 
possible time to see the Emperor and the Empress. If 
we could only catch that governess! If we could only 
prove her devilish work !” 

“General Zastrow’s audience,” I said, anxiously — for 
I had hopes from this. 

“It ended satisfactorily, as regards our own family,” 
said Trepoff. “We are safe enough. The Emperor re- 
ceived him very graciously, and said briefly and decided- 
ly: ‘Michael Alexandrovitch! This untoward trouble 
shall make no difference in my future care of your fam- 
ily interests. Strangers are often watched and preyed 
on in our country! There is nothing to seriously impli- 
cate your American relative, except his own personal 
folly, — and for that, he is only accountable to his sisters 
and to your family. I presume he was taken advantage 
of. You may say to Countess Vera Komaroff that her 
loyalty, her father’s high prudence, and that of her moth- 
er, is undoubted. If they should be subjected to the 
faintest social annoyance, you can request an audience 
at once ! As for the lady with the papers, that is a matter 
for the Privy Council. You know the laws as regards 
the Imperial family. The course of justice there is out 
of my hands!’ — and he sighed heavily. And he then, dis- 
missed General Zastrow, kindly stating that he should 
know when the papers would be on file in the case, save 
the private court record in the fortress. That is all we 
could hope for.” 

“Certainly,” said I. 

“That means the last moments of poor Hermione are 
near,” he concluded, “unless we can get a special grace. 
But Zastrow is free to help me, and Serge, who is a 


254 


FOR HER LIFE. 


host, will be out, too, in a day or so. We will all work 
on Mouravieff! We must have all the ladies attack the 
dear Empress and the Czar. It is the forlorn hope! Now, 
Serge and I will be every moment at hand. Grahame, 
you are tired. You will need all your nerves to-morrow! 
It is near taps; I will go.” He shook hands heartily, 
and then dismissed the sergeant. The jailer came to con- 
duct him out and to lock me up. I showed Trepoff to 
the door with a great flourish, forgetting that I was the 
“Czar’s guest!” He smiled at my easy politeness. A 
Philadelphian attribute! The turnkey pushed me back 
into the open door roughly. I was now a prisoner in- 
deed! He grasped my hand very harshly. But, I felt a 
slip of paper thrust therein ! I closed my fingers on it, — 
and the key turned. My one candle was nearly done! 
The writing lights had been all removed. I ran to its 
blinking glimmer. No danger of my burning up the 
capacious granite hostelry annoyed me now. I presume 
it was also heavily insured! A note from Hermione! 
Then the rough jailer, who only spoke Russian, was al- 
ready under Hermione’s magic sway! How could this 
be? If he would fetch, he would carry. Was it a trap? 
But, it was the dauntless woman’s own graceful hand! 
I eagerly read the penciled lines! My heart, true to the 
demure Quaker girl, was wildly stirred by my extra sis- 
ter’s note! Then she had friends, — even here! 

“I am well and not badly treated, yet. Trust the man! 
He is one of us! Write to me in the morning. Tell me 
all ! Let me hear the news of your trial at once. Durand 
will work with Trepoff! Beg the ladies to see Count 
Mouravieff. He alone can save me from Haxo’s snares. 
I wish to live for Dimitri now, if I can! If I am convict- 
ed and my sentence commuted to Siberia — our friends 
can try and help me! Don’t work for a full pardon. It 
would fail! Only ask for a commutation and work for 
that, — instantly! Haxo will take my woman away the 
very moment I am sentenced! I swear by my mother’s 
grave, I will strangle myself before I will pass into the 
dark horror of his foul hands! Death? Yes! Torture, 
—never! — and — still less — Dishonor!— No!— I will die 


FOR HER LIFE. 


255 


true to myself — by your generous, noble kindness, I 
swear it! I will live for Dimitri — who risks all for me — 
or, die without him! Hermione.” 

The candle went sputtering out! Her note was lying 
there wet with my tears! Brave, dauntless woman! She 
had the spirit of an antique Roman! And — her fate! I 
did not dare to tear up the note. I chewed it to pieces 
and then scattered the remains around! The floor was 
all covered with litter of the lawyer’s memorandums. I 
saw the pale blue gleam of the starlight night without! 
In a high fever — with throbbing pulses — I gazed for the 
last time, in imploring agony, on the stars shining stead- 
ily down on me through the window as I threw myself 
on the hard couch. My last prayer was to see Hermione 
saved, — then, with any personal sacrifices, to leave the 
land of the Czar forever! But, I would not regret these 
troubles — if I had helped to save — even her life now! It 
was horrible! 

It was seven o’clock when I woke from my first night 
in a Russian prison! The turnkey noisily opened the 
door. A soldier brought to me a plain but substantial 
breakfast. It was not such a bad hotel. I sprang up and 
was soon ready for it! The jailer gazed at the attendant, 
who went clattering away. He then, with kindness, ap- 
proached and imitated the motions of writing! I under- 
stood his pantomimic effort! I exclaimed: “Barina!” 
He bowed his head with delight. My Russian was effec- 
tive, if limited! Pointing down the corridor, he counted 
on his fingers 7. She was, then, in the seventh casemate! 
I nodded. He indicated his departure and return. We 
were doing famously. I seized some of the writing ma- 
terials, and hastily swallowing a cup of coffee — to steady 
my nerves — I wrote to the poor woman around whom my 
heart was hovering, a full long letter with every word 
of my information. I urged her to set Durand on to 
watch the governess now. I assured her that the entire 
three families would sleeplessly toil for her safety. I told 
her that General Komaroff would aid by telegraph; then 
begged her, if she valued the sacrifices I had made for 
her, to wait till the last possible instant before a desperate 


256 


FOR HER LIFE. 


self-destruction. I asked her to answer at once. There 
is hope always, I urged. I hastened to complete this 
scrawl. It was not long before the friendly man re- 
turned. I gave it to him. He disappeared, and then 
returned in a few minutes with a little paper. It read: 

“I have yours. Will follow your wishes. I have hope 
now! God bless you! Hermione.” 

While I pondered the man came in, and the service 
was removed. At eight o’clock the welcomed lawyer ap- 
peared. Federoff was an excellent business advocate. 
Like all superior Russians, he detested to meddle in 
criminal proceedings. I wished to use him in the prop- 
erty matters, after my release. We agreed at once not 
to be unduly controversial with the court. Federoff 
frankly said they must at least convict me, technically. 
He proposed to use his own well-known popularity in an 
appeal to the kind discretion of the court; and I felt 
that, after all, the Legation was behind me, too. So, 
this seemed the best to be done. He betook himself to 
his notes, and scribbled away, asking me brief questions 
now and then. I felt strangely — as a convict. In a 
short while, the earnest face of my gallant friend Trepoff 
was at the door. I saw that he had news of importance. 
Lie greeted me, and then, after a general colloquy with 
Federoff, we retired to a corner. He was more cheerful 
as he gave me a second letter from Justine. It was like 
the first, filled now with the returning tenderness of her 
dear heart. And so, she began to understand me at last! 

Madeleine, my dear sufferer, was weak, but now gain- 
ing every hour. Her calls for me were met with the 
news that I was summoned away for a short time. The 
doctors forbade her even to read. So, she would learn 
to forgive, too! Trepoff then agreed to take an open 
letter to my sister Justine, subject to the glancing inspec- 
tion of the Brigade Major, who was like Trepoff, — no 
hangman, but a soldier really worthy of the knightly 
weapon at his side. Not an armed policeman! The la- 
dies had already achieved much. Count Mouravieff had 
agreed to keep the “Order of Council” in Hermione’s 


FOR HER LIFE. 


257 


case on his own person, until after every last effort had 
been made. Already a special letter, under the sign 
manual of the Count, as President of the Council, di- 
rected General Davidofif, the responsible Military Com- 
mander, not to execute any fatal sentence without a per- 
sonal report to him through the Brigade Major. “He is 
a true friend of mine,” said the anxious Trepoff, “and I 
will know all, and fight for her to the last. We must 
save her!” “Dimitri,” I broke in, “will you do me a 
great favor?” “Name it! If possible, I will!” he cried. 
“You can command my life!” “Then, listen! Hermi- 
one is safe until we have done our best for her, save for 
one thing. If sentenced, they will take away her woman 
at once. Something might happen to her before the final 
orders, you know!” I added, in a solemn voice. He 
hoarsely answered, “Yes!” — and his eyes blazed in a 
strange fire. “See Mouravieff yourself! Tell him the 
honor of the Komaroffs, the Zastrows, and his own fam- 
ily might be compromised by any pretended confession. 
Work on his feelings, and get an order from the Prime 
Minister Tolstoi, to be detailed as ‘a confidential in- 
spector’ in the case. Get authority to remain with the 
prisoner, after the close of the trial, all the day-time, and 
to inspect her cell at night with the guard relief every 
two hours! That will prevent treachery, or — or — in- 
sult!” said I, my voice failing. “It will keep ITaxo away 
from her!” He gazed at me in admiration. “Urge that 
my fate — an American stranger — demands all fairness!” 
“I’ll do it!” he cried. “I will claim my privilege on this; 
I will not fail with Tolstoi ! Mouravieff can demand to 
see the sentence fairly carried out!” The gallant fellow 
touched the white cross which gave him the right to an 
immediate audience of the Emperor. His blood had 
bought that on the plains of Plevna! “Good, then,” I 
cried, — “leave me! Do this at once! Dont let them 
outwit us now! Beg the Brigade Major to put only 
trusty sentinels over her! You know what I mean! 
“I will see him at once!” he joyfully exclaimed. “Now, 
for the only clue! You know the man who waited on 
vou at the Zastrows! He came to see me secretly 
last night, in my rooms!” “I do!— a very decent fellow, 
17 


25S 


FOR HER LIFE. 


too,” was my reply. “One of Durand’s friends !” “He 
told me last night/’ said Major Trepoff, “that a strange 
workman had been seen fixing the locks and fastenings 
all around the house ! The fellow worked when we were 
out, ‘so as to not disturb us’ with any noise.” He 
paused and looked at me. “It is a little singular!” he 
said. A light was now being cast on the plot ! I sprang 
up. “Now, he did not know this workman. He says 
he worked in the house for two or three days before the 
trouble! That fellow may have either opened the jewel 
box or been told to fit a key to it. If I could only find 
him, we might hope!” I saw the whole deviltry. The 
Dauvray woman had brought the man in. He was either 
a spy and a tool of the government, or she had fooled him 
into making a key or opening the case. So, Hermione 
had been betrayed. “This was the French woman’s 
work, Dimitri, and we must watch her. This alone will 
save Hermione!” I replied. He struck his head with 
his clenched fist. “True; but, by God! what shall I do? 
What can I do? The time is so short!” “Should I con- 
fide all to him?” I thought now of Hermione in a dis- 
honored grave, or tortured after a disgrace! “Dimitri,” 
said I, “you love the woman! You alone can save her!” 
I said, slowly. He grasped my hand. “Tell me — quick! 
— what must I do!” said he, in a wild excitement. I was 
using all my poor legal wits now. “You have your man 
and sleigh here,” I continued. “Yes!” he cried, as he 
grasped his cloak and turban. He was ready — aye, 
ready! “Send for that sewing woman who is sick. She 
was in and out of the rooms a great deal. She is devoted 
to Hermione. Now, get her here at once! I will write 
my ideas! You can read them later. Give her a_.note to 
General Zastrow. Let her take the man who told you 
this, — give them plenty of money, — and tell them not 
to stop day or night till they find that missing lock- 
smith! You have all my money! Use it like water! 
Let them go into every shop in Petersburg and find him ! 
There are not so many locksmiths’ shops here. He is not 
very far away! The French woman has been spying in 
that house before! And, she had a key fitted, or stole 
Hermione’s and had it duplicated!” “I know it!” he 


FOR HER LIFE. 


259 


cried. “Zastrow has been troubled by such fears! I 
know it!” he replied. “He tells me his papers have been 
slyly gone over — now and then! He will keep quiet as 
yet!” “Now, not a word to alarm her — not a word to 
Zastrow of this plan!” I continued, with growing excite- 
ment. “Get these two people at work!” “If I find him, 
then what?” he cried, in haste to go. I was now coldly 
revengeful in my heart — to punish Felise! “Then lure 
him quietly to your own rooms! Have Boris there, and 
you must force the truth out of him! Buy him; bully 
him, — all but kill him!” I said, bounding to my feet. 
“Hermione’s life is in your hands! We want his con- 
fession, or the true story!” He did not hear the last 
words, for he was off. In a few moments he returned. 
His eyes were sparkling in a new hope. “I told my man 
to go at a gallop and get that woman! Now, for your 
affairs!” 

He was happy to catch this fleeting chance of helping. 
“Never mind me! You must not alarm Felise a hair! 
But, have her watched always! Dimitri, I have but little 
time. Let me write!” said I. “Do you not think she may 
report to Haxo?” He started. “Perhaps!” he said. “I 
will know!” He sat down and communed with the law- 
yer as I pencilled a note to Hermione, with these mat- 
ters briefly set out. I said I would try to have Durand 
see her, or at least her other faithful “sister of the order.” 
I told her of Trepoff’ s plan to prevent foul play. It was 
all I could do. I had forgotten myself. I also wrote 
to Durand, telling her just what to do; and to get Her- 
mione’s wishes through the other woman, “and to hasten 
for a life’s rescue!” I begged her for God’s sake to let 
nothing prevent the finding of the man. I told her to 
notify Trepoff by day or night, leaving some one to 
watch the man so he could not slip away. “Use the 
whole order to save your 'Queen of the Forget-Me- 
Nots’ ” were my last words. I concealed the Durand 
note. The turnkey now announced the assembly of my 
court to Major Trepoff, and that an officer and guard 
was coming for me. I slipped the note for Hermione in 
his hand, .wrapped up in a hundred rouble note; for 
Trepoff had brought some of my welcome money. He 


260 


FOR HER LIFE. 


clanked down the corridor, and returned in a few mo- 
ments, his eyes dancing with joy at his windfall. I 
thanked God for the power of the universal god — “rou- 
ble, dollar, shilling, franc, mark, or lire;” it is all the 
same. Gold! magic gold! Money loosened locks even 
in Russia. I gladly discovered I had only a moment 
now. I called Dimitri aside. “Trepoff, here are two let- 
ters for my sisters!” He placed them in his pocket, and 
there was no interruption as he pocketed them. I eyed 
him as the soldiers approached. “Will you also give this 
note, unopened, to that sewing woman as soon as she 
comes?” He looked me steadily in the eyes. “For Her- 
mione!s sake!” said I — a last appeal. “Go at once!” “I 
will obey for her sake; but only for that would I leave 
you to-day!” he murmured, as he placed the letter in 
his card case and darted away. It was the only chance 
to get any original evidence for the partner of my trou- 
ble. “Now, when she comes, let her see the other wo- 
man!” I had rapidly whispered. “Hermione may know 
something of that locksmith. She may have seen this 
man repairing the house! She may know of the affair!” 
“Yes!” he had answered; “but I will have to take the wo- 
man outside to her. She must stay in my sleigh.” “All 
right,” said I, as I rose, and then followed Trepoff out. 
The officer of the guard had called for all my papers, 
and Major Trepoff had delivered them all to him. I was 
ready to face my judges now! Trepoff and the lawyer 
went off together. So, under the guard of a sergeant 
and an armed squad, I walked down the stony corridors 
to the Court Martial room. I fancied myself now a per- 
sonage upon whom these honors were all too rashly 
thrust. In Philadelphia, I walked alone! I was so eager 
to further the work of Hermione’s salvation that I forgot 
my imperilled freedom of action; for I felt that Haxo 
had no special thirst for my blood. I was only a plain 
every-day fool — in his eyes. I was instantly recalled by 
the cold, cheerless vaulted hall, an old magazine, from 
my day-dreams. This was the real prison scene — no 
hotel about this. We entered a great room. Long ta- 
bles, green-covered; smaller ones for the scribes and 
lawyers, were all ready. The guards and sentinels, with 


FOR HER LIFE. 


261 


orderlies, made up a grim display. All this for the bene- 
fit of Walter Grahame, Esq., who would gladly have 
waived it all. Seated at a side table, the young attache of 
the American Legation watched me with a most languid 
curiosity. He looked a bit tired with his ball. At a sig- 
nal, my lawyer sat down by me. Behind me there stood 
the grim sergeant, saber and revolver ready, as if I were 
Fra Diavolo, or Schinderhannes of the Rhine! Five 
superior officers sat waiting at the long table, their uni- 
forms blazing with every medal and decoration of the 
service. Old men, hardened to the world, were they, 
most obsequiously obeying the behests of the palace cir- 
cle, and the all-powerful police. These vicious, aged 
automatons seemed to be grizzled and ferocious demons 
to my startled gaze. It was not then a dream. Gen- 
eral Obranovitch, at the head, sat like a hungry ogre. 
His saber was thrown across the table. His cold gray 
eye and furrowed parchment face was teeming with vin- 
dictiveness. He disdained taking any notes. His nod 
of the head was the cold indication of his casting vote as 
President. I could see that his mind (such as he had) 
was always “made up/’ A wooden idol, its hideous lips 
attuned to ejaculate “Death” at stated intervals, would 
have done as well! There was no unnecessary delay in 
bringing me “to book.” The President of the Court did 
not swear in the Court or exhibit any warrant to judge 
a free-born citizen. He simply called out, in a harsh 
voice: 

“All ready! Proceed! The affair Grahame!” — so my 
lawyer interpreted. 

The Judge Advocate read, in French, the charges, 
which were brief. “Walter Grahame, an American,” 
was charged with “uttering a false passport”— in certain 
long-winded periods. A written copy of the charge was 
now handed to my lawyer. “Has the accused counsel?” 
cried the grim old President. Federoff arose and bowed 
respectfully. I waited my turn now. “Stand up!” said 
the Judge Advocate to me. I rose in silence. “Walter 
Grahame, American traveler, how do you plead? Guilty 
or not guilty?” said he, mechanically, as if he cared not 
what my views were on that subject — so vital to me. 


262 


FOR HER LIFE. 


“Not guilty!” I replied, and sat down. I groaned at the 
outlook. “I have the honor, General, to except to the 
jurisdiction of the Court,” said Federoff, rising. “This 
man is a foreigner, a traveler, ignorant of the laws and 
internal regulations of the land. He cannot even speak 
the language.” “Overruled! Proceed!” instantly an- 
swered Obranovitch. Pens were now scratching and 
papers rustling. It was clear that my innings would be 
very trifling. The Judge Advocate turned then to an 
orderly. “Call Colonel Luboff!” He appeared shortly, 
and was then sworn. He briefly testified as to my name 
and station. The passport was handed to him and iden- 
tified. He described the lady with me at the Zastrows. 
He swore to my treatment of her as my sister in society, 
and her arrest. He gave his testimony with quiet cold- 
ness and no feeling. He described the double arrest, 
and said the house dvornik had reported her as my sis- 
ter, and handed in a false passport of my family name. 
The Judge Advocate paused. 

Federoff, in cross-examination, asked if I was spe- 
cially made aware of the stringent regulations of the 
Bureau. Luboff admitted I had only acted as the lady’s 
brother, and had not personally handed in the fraudulent 
paper. “Did you ever question him directly as to the re- 
lation?” pleasantly said Federoff. “I did not. I presumed 
her to be the prisoner’s sister. They so acted at General 
Zastrow’s. I was so introduced to her. He was in the 
house at the time.” “That is all, Colonel,” said my ju- 
dicious advocate, after Luboff had acknowledged we had 
committed no other criminal act in his presence, or to his 
direct knowledge. “Only personated the brother of an 
‘extra sister!’ ” Several of the Court grinned maliciously 
at me. An official of the Interior Department was called, 
who testified to the regular receipt of my own legal pass- 
port from the Zastrow mansion, accompanied with the 
other. No cross-examination, he soon withdrew. 

The frightened “dvornik,” or head porter, of the Zas- 
trow mansion, was now called. I was afraid for Serge! 
If discovered, we would all be injured. He testified to 
receiving and returning my passport in the usual man- 
ner. Fie admitted making the reports called for by law, 


FOR HER LIFE. 


263 


and said the lady’s passport had been handed on her be- 
half to him. He forgot by whom. No cross-examina- 
tion. 

I breathed freely. Serge was at least safe now! 

General Michael Zastrow appeared. He was sworn, 
and briefly testified to the facts of our arrival, our stay, 
and our arrest. “You supposed the other prisoner to be 
this man’s sister?” grunted out General Obranovitch, 
with some interest, speaking in a friendly tone. “Cer- 
tainly!” said the old veteran, never raising his eyes. 
“Did she act suspiciously in your house?” asked a mem- 
ber. “Never!” said the witness. “She was extremely 
correct in all her behavior.” 

“The real sister of the prisoner is at your house now 
with Commodore Zastrow’s wife — also his sister?” 
roared General Obranovitch, who was deaf, and hasty in 
his manner as well. 

“Yes, General,” said Michael Zastrow, unwillingly. 

“They have both correct papers?” asked the Judge 
Advocate. 

“Yes, sir,” replied my late host. The prosecution 
paused. 

“Did the prisoner act wrongly, in any other way, at 
your home?” said Federoff. 

“Not at all. His conduct was very proper,” rejoined 
my friend. 

“That will do, sir,” said my counsel. 

General Haxo was the next witness. He was as un- 
moved as a bronze statue. And, I shuddered, to see him 
in the box. 

“Do you recognize the prisoner, General?” said the 
anxious Judge Advocate. 

“I do. I met him in calling at the house of General 
Zastrow. I knew too when he entered the country at 
Eydtkuhnen,” quietly said Haxo. “He has had some 
legal business here.” 

I started. “Had he stolen my letters to fight the 
claim?” 

“Did you speak to him or his companion about this 
passport?” was the next query. 

“I did not! I did not think they knew my functions,” 


264 


FOR HER LIFE. 


was the cold reply. "I was paying my respects to the 
Countess Komaroff. I had his name on my private list, 
and hers — as his sister — American visitors — so reported 
to me.” 

'‘Did the prisoner willfully utter a false passport?” 
was the succeeding question. 

"He did, or she did, with his knowledge,” replied the 
General, decidedly. My friends exchanged glances, and 
the young attache lifted his head. 

"How do you know this?” obsequiously continued the 
prosecutor. 

"I thought at first he had been victimized by some 
beautiful adventuress. I had reason to suspect the wo- 
man with him. I watched them. He persisted in taking 
her out in society, as his sister. I directed them to be 
followed and watched. On their proposed departure, I 
refrained from arresting them, until I was aware of the 
real character of the woman with him. That is a serious 
public concern. The coming of his real sister from Paris 
and Madame Zastrow, who are innocent of all wrong- 
doing, made it my duty to arrest the two prisoners; for 
there was one ‘extra’ sister in this small family!” he 
grinned. 

"Who is the woman arrested with the prisoner?” said 
the Judge Advocate, timidly. I turned as I heard a 
sigh. It was uttered by Dimitri! Trepoff’s forehead was 
knotted in agony. He tried to be calm. And there was 
a hush in the room as General Haxo said, triumphantly: 

"She is a most daring and dangerous state criminal!” 
— and then, he turned a glittering eye on me. "I believe 
the prisoner knew it, and screened her willingly.” 

All the old Dracos at the board looked up. They 
sniffed blood. My brain reeled. "Did he really know 
who she was? He was now condemning her in advance. 
Ah! the wolf bided his time.” For what fell purpose did 
he hound Hermione down? 

"Did the prisoner commit any other overt crime?” was 
the final query. 

The whole court waited in strained attention, and I 
was on the tenter-hooks. 

"Not to my knowledge. He was, I think, only a tool 


FOR HER LIFE. 


265 


of a very subtle woman! He was forced into his foolish 
role, perhaps, by fear of exposure, for his detection was 
certain. His great folly was not advising with his Russian 
friends. He should have known that she was only an ad- 
venturess, or worse! I watched him to save him, as I. 
do not like to arrest innocent travelers, Americans es- 
pecially, even if they are socially imprudent; for I feared 
he might be found in strange quarters. When she 
forced herself on a great family, she was within my 
reach always. I wished to simply bring her before the 
law, and not annoy my esteemed friend General Zas- 
trow.” 

“That will do, General,” said the flattered prosecutor. 
“We will, of course, hear the whole facts — in the other 
trial.” 

Haxo bowed, with a cool, wicked gleam in his eyes. 
Federoff’ s eyes met mine. I shook my head. I did not 
wish to enrage this wolf who thirsted for Hermione’s 
blood; for she was clearly in his power. Did I dare to 
doubt her truth to Trepoff? No! He evidently wanted 
to get the record right, to use against Hermione with 
the Council and Emperor. He feared Nicolas Moura- 
vieff’s fine hand, not the too facile court. For God help 
her! I knew in my heart that he wanted to get her in his 
power in those dark, lonely shades. 

“No questions, General,” said Federoff, simply. And 
then, Haxo left the room, his sword ominously rattling. 
The Judge Advocate was evidently surprised. Was 
there nothing else? Here was a man, simply imposed 
on, who consented to a social fraud! Nothing more 
against the disciple of William Penn — and my friends 
felt safe! 

“That is the case!” said he, bowing to the President. 

Federoff then called the attache. He testified to my 
unexceptionable general conduct and high standing in 
America. He stated officially, who I was. He said 
also that my lawful sister Madeleine and Madame Jus- 
tine Zastrow were at the General’s, and both were per- 
sons of the highest respectability. 

“Do you know anything of the other prisoner?” was 
the only cross-question. The young attache languidly 


266 


FOR HER LIFE. 


denied “the soft impeachment” He was pumped out. 
“Nothing! — nothing whatever!” said the diplomat, as he 
departed. 

There was a bustle as I was then sworn to make my 
voluntary statement. Federoff drew out the fact that I 
was ignorant of any breach of criminal law, the passport 
system being a nullity elsewhere, except in Turkish 
states, and that the old paper had disappeared from my 
desk and was used unknown to me. 

“Do you know who the other prisoner is?” said my 
lawyer. 

“I do not,” I firmly replied. All were interested now. 
There was a craning of necks in my direction. Now, 
came on the racy dessert to these dry bites! 

“Why did you act as you did?” was the next question. 

“I was quietly leaving the country to avoid further 
trouble,” I replied. “I only intended to help the lady 
past a mere troublesome formality. The false position 
was originated by General Zastrow assuming her to be 
my sister, before I came from Wilna. We were about 
leaving for Warsaw peaceably. She was to quit me at 
the frontier, and I proposed to join my sister in Paris. 
I know nothing of her history or any unlawful designs — 
only that she needed help.” 

“Did you write or telegraph your sister Madeleine to 
come to Petersburg?” said Federoff, with a cautious 
glance. 

“I did not,” I replied, simply. “Some one forged my 
name to both letters and telegrams addressed to her. 
My mail has, also, been suppressed or stolen! It must 
have been done by persons of power and great skill!” 

“Do you know who did it?” continued Federoff. 

“I do not,” was my closing answer. “I have not the 
faintest idea! All I wish is to get out of Russia — for- 
ever!” 

There was a general horse-laugh. I was asked but 
one cross-question, and, on my declining to answer, on 
the right not to criminate myself, the Judge Advocate 
shrugged his shoulders, and said, “That is all!” I felt 
my soul lifted up. I deserved an acquittal. Federoff 
rested my case. In any fair court, I was as fairly cleared 


FOR HER LIFE. 


267 


as a man could be. The Judge Advocate then addressed 
the Court with a really able summing up. I took a pro- 
fessional pride in seeing that he thoroughly knew his 
business. Federoff followed, briefly urging the igno- 
rance of travelers as to the serious nature of the police 
control. He referred to my ignorance also of the lan- 
guage. He pointed out that I was foolishly imprudent 
— only that. Fie explained my apparent deceit by my 
desire to get away at once and not wound the feelings 
of my friends by any discovery. As far as I was con- 
cerned, no infractions or other guilty knowledge was 
charged — merely a passive deceit — a chivalric — a nat- 
ural one. He did not refer to Hermione, but urged my ac- 
quittal. He dwelt on America’s distance and our gross 
unfamiliarity with all the forms of Russian law. He 
begged for acquittal or a merely technical judgment, and 
then referred to American natural sympathy with Rus- 
sia. “It would be madness for such a man to meddle 
here, and, this gentleman’s character makes it impossi- 
ble!” he closed. I at once acquitted myself. 

The Court was cleared. I spent an anxious, a mad- 
dening half-hour, alone in the anteroom. Trepoff was 
called away by a messenger. This brightened me, for I 
knew now Durand had arrived. He returned soon, and 
whispered to me, “It’s all right! I gave her the note. 
The other woman is with her now!” This, too, was good 
news. My plan would be worked with energy. If the 
man could be found, we had at least a basis to work on — 
for a mitigation. Loud talking and argument was heard 
in the Court Martial room. They were at work decid- 
ing my case. It recalled me to my being “on the 
broiler” In a few moments, the clamor ceased. A sub- 
officer then called the guard and we were all ushered in. 
My heart thumped away violently. Would I become a 
regular boarder in the granite casemates? The row of 
ghouls was now in correct order, and a ghastly lot they 
were. General Obranovitch’s wicked eyes gleamed with 
a flickering brightness. They seemed now to me to be 
“man-eaters.” I had lost my glow of manly defiance; 
for they were ready “to talk business in my case.” 

“Stand up!” cried the Judge Advocate. I struggled to 


268 


FOR HER LIFE. 


my feet. “The prisoner is found guilty!” said the Gen- 
eral. “Sentence at ten o’clock to-morrow!” And, the 
Court filed away in laughing knots of happy Muscovites 
to their comfortable table, I have no doubt. The officer 
touched me on the shoulder. The Court had broken up 
most gayly, the military hyenas congratulating each 
other. They wended their way to the caviar, vodki, and 
breakfast, so well earned. They had “polished the Amer- 
ican off very easily.” And, Hermione! Ah! my God! 
that was an agony! In silence I was reconducted to my 
lonely cell. Federoff remained with me a few minutes 
only. He hastened away to work for my interests. An 
old friend of Monsieur de Giers, he would at once see 
him and beg the remission of my sentence on grounds of 
international comity. “You are simply a formal exam- 
ple!” he said. “Don’t worry.” But I did! I thanked 
Federoff and asked him to come and advise Trepoff, as 
a friend merely, in Hermione’s case. I saw he was fright- 
ened. He shrank from publicly touching this as an ad- 
vocate. It was too dangerous. Ah! she was doomed! 
I soon received a very fair breakfast, and then, Trepoff 
went down to see the sewing woman. Hermione’s serv- 
ant was permitted to return to her, for a list of some nec- 
essaries. This Trepoff had told me on his return. The 
good Durand had ascertained now all the poor beauty’s 
wishes. I knew how vital this was to my caged falcon. 
Trepoff sat down and wrote to General Zastrow, who 
had escaped from the court without a word to us. He 
told him to do all he could for Durand. An order for 
abundant money, and some direction to Trepoff’s serv- 
ant completed her outfit. Trepoff gave her his card, 
with a note which would protect her from all ordinary 
interference. The driver was out of the fortress already, 
and, dashing along, well on the way. And we must find 
that man! It was our Waterloo! I was satisfied and 
disinclined to talk. My own outlook was seemingly 
gloomy enough. Sentence was hanging over me! The 
lukewarm behavior of the local United States officials 
did not argue any peculiar interest in me. If another 
round of “parties” would be brought on the tapis, I 
could neatly be executed, while the attaches sipped wine 


FOR HER LIFE. 


269 


and whirled those pretty Russian girls. We ate some 
breakfast. Trepoff decided to depart, as he wished to 
see Count Mouravieff in my behalf. He hoped my sen- 
tence could be commuted. The most important arrange- 
ments as to Hermione rested also with the kindly old 
dictator. “I want you free, Grahame!” cried Dimitri, “to 
get even with these fellows and to help me save her! I 
want you out !” Promising to return next morning, and 
to effect my substantial pardon, Trepoff would be free 
then to give himself up entirely to the quest for 
the locksmith. His main duty now was to watch ovei* 
the dauntless woman, who was looking out of the deep 
embrasure of a prison cell. And, how many days had 
she to live? I dared not even think of it. In her vigor- 
ous flower of life, — loving and loved, — to die! I was 
beaten down and wearied out. Intrigue, deceit, craft, 
cruelty, and treachery had made my life only one daily 
battle since I crossed the frontier. But, I came to battle 
with just such elements! I could only blame myself, it 
was true. 

Dimitri went away, assuring me that Serge, the Gen- 
eral, and himself would sign a joint statement as to my 
own case. He would ask Count Mouravieff to hand 
this personally to the Emperor. The round robin would 
delicately hint that I drifted by gallantry into a foolish 
corner. It was useless to provide further for my sister 
Madeleine and Justine Zastrow. They had every help 
and comfort, and were free to go. It was clearly Gen- 
eral Haxo’s policy to have them treated with ostenta- 
tious official consideration. The moment I was range, 
they could go to Kiev, or my Maddy be sent back to her 
friends in Paris. I fancied she did not care for a Rus- 
sian winter. I pencilled a few lines to Hermione, telling 
her all my own gloomy news. I feared treachery now, 
but I was reassured when the turnkey brought me an an- 
swer. He had nearing visions of more of my hundred 
rouble notes. If I did not have my freedom, I at least 
could spend my money. I have never failed to be able 
to get rid of my surplus. Plermione wrote at once; for 
the way might not long be open. 


270 


FOR HER LIFE. 


“Durand and my secret friends know all now! They 
will co-operate for everything needed through her. 
Every square in Petersburg will be at once examined 
by our order! The brothers also on the trail will not 
sleep night or day! Trepoff and Serge can alone save 
me by finding that one locksmith ! They must gain the 
Empress’ heart, through the two ladies ! She is an angel 
of kindness when she is reached by worthy sufferers ! 
Thanks for Trepoff’s plan, I shall die a free woman — not 
a poor, degraded outcast, crushed under the rack with 
the knout. I can escape them — I have the means. My 
heart is with you. God speed Trepoff! I thank God 
no clouds rest on my friends. If it were not only for 
Dimitri’s future, I would go to the doom with sealed 
lips! But my foolish woman heart tells me to live for 
him — now! Trust the messenger; the man is true. 

“Hermione.” 

I dragged out the afternoon hours and slept while the 
glimmering battle lanterns lit up the snow-covered walks 
where the bayonet of the Cossack guards the helpless 
victims of a stern autocracy. 


CHAPTER X. 

HERMIONE’S JUDGMENT — ON THE BRIDGE — A DEAD 
WITCH — FOUND AT LAST. 

Morning came; the gun-fire awakened me, now a con- 
victed man. Under my casemate, the ringing bugle sang 
loudly. The soldiers turned out for*drill as soon as the 
daylight struggled through the gloom. Poor brutes, 
only trained for slaughter in another’s quarrel! 

The reveille bore my thoughts far away to a free and 
happy land. I was recalled from my slumbers — from a 
blessed vision of my peaceful home on the Schuylkill — 
and the face of the dreamy-eyed Quaker girl whom I 
now feared to meet. So I fell to “Dreaming the dream 
that martial music weaves!” I was roused by the en- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


271 


trance of my turnkey. He soon served me a good break- 
fast, in which my hundred rouble note was evidently a 
potent factor; or, was it only to “brace me up” for my 
sentence? The Sergeant, who spoke French, busied 
himself with my toilet. He acted as volunteer valet. 
He also scented various roubles in the distance. 

This was the day of sentence. I was anxious to have 
it all over, as I wanted time to have the search for the 
locksmith a success before Hermione’s trial. I hoped 
to be relieved before that; for I naturally hoped for a 
mitigation. I was too insignificant for Haxo’s fine work. 
I felt they would not try her till my sentence had been 
confirmed. I was sure now that my punishment would 
only be a period of local detention — not a visit to the 
Siberian wilderness. But would I emerge soon enough 
to aid Trepoff? Would I be immured here while fair, 
unfortunate Hermione, still a mystery, died almost in my 
hearing — and I not see her again? There was mad- 
ness in this idea. If detained, I would have my sister 
Madeleine go on to Paris at once. I could join her by 
steamer, if released, after I had helped the “sister” so 
strangely adopted. I must see her again, in any case! 
I would have Trepoff bring me some of my money and 
heavily bribe the turnkey. There were but two guard 
inspectors — one at noon and one before taps. Money, 
a fat concrete lump, might do its work! The jailer 
brought me a note hidden in a loaf of bread, the safest 
prison mailbag. 

“All is well! Send me in some paper and writing ma- 
terials, if you can. I want to write for you the story of 
my life. Let me hear from Trepoff. Don’t ask him 
to try to see me before my trial. He might be seen 
and compromised. When will I be tried? Don’t relax 
a moment! I will certainly be convicted. I fear the 
worst now! After I am judged, if Dimitri can work his 
way to me, let him come. Your faithful 

“Hermione.” 

I sent to the lonely one all the materials I had and re- 
plied: 


272 


FOR HER LIFE. 


“Trepoff will be here soon. I will send more paper 
soon. Finish all your writing to-day, and let me have 
it. It is the only safe way. I will seal it. Trepoff will 
keep it sacredly. You may be tried to-morrow, or next 
day. They will search your cell then. So, beware of 
all. Keep up hope! Grahame.” 

This was safely dispatched. In a half-hour the Major 
came over from the capitol. He was cheerful. “I have 
them all at work, like honey-bees! And we will make 
a strong fight!” I told him I must have at once a large 
sum of my money, in bills, and also more writing ma- 
terial. The latter was at once obtained. The cash he 
would soon bring back in fifty and hundred rouble notes. 
He suspected its proposed use, but was silent. I learned 
that my sisters were now well. He gave me kind letters 
from Serge and the easy-going old General Zastrow, 
None of them knew of my conviction, save the General. 
All was going on well, save the quest for the smith. 
Mouravieff had promised all we desired. The gallant 
soldier showed to me the order and sign manual of 
Count Tolstoi, that he, alone, should have charge of the 
prisoner, as representing the “Minister of the Interior” 
up to the last moment. “This prevents the ‘extraordi- 
nary!’ ” solemnly said Trepoff. This sad privilege was at 
least secure. She would die like a human being, and not 
be sported with in her agony. “And the locksmith? 
We must connect Haxo and the woman with the trick!” 
“No news yet!” was the despairing reply of the Major. 
“The two are hunting over the whole city. The gov- 
erness is watched night and day now by our spies — 
people we have put in the house ! So far, she has not left 
the mansion. Ah! she is a sly one — a safe one!” Trep- 
off had as yet no solid proof that she was a paid police 
spy. He believed it firmly, but had no direct evidence. 
I did not dare to admit that Hermione and the “Durand” 
had been systematically outwitted by this quiet gov- 
erness who worked her wonders in silence. “Ah! she 
must have had help and outside orders!” I groaned. 
She was Haxo, as far as we were concerned. 

I was summoned for my sentence. The escort officer 


FOR HER LIFE. 


273 


and guard reconducted me to the hall. Trepoff went 
also. The Court was hastily convened. The Judge Ad- 
vocate read the brief proceedings. They were signed 
and approved by the Court and President. It was a 
very brief recital. The stern old General Obranovitch 
made a sign to the guards. I was roughly ordered to 
stand up. I did so, with a tremor of rage. I dis- 
guised a choking feeling of helpless anger. The old 
President read from a slip; and I realized how far chiv- 
alry could lead a man out of his own bailiwick. “The 
sentence of the Court is that the prisoner, convicted 
duly, according to law, shall be imprisoned in the fortress 
for three months; then, publicly expelled from Russia 
under a police guard!” I heard the whole thing in a 
dream. Lost! I was reconducted outside. The guard 
escorted me to my casemate. Trepoff and I did not 
speak until we were alone. This sealed the fate of Her- 
mione, unless I could get clemency. What hope for her 
— the sweet culprit! What was to be done! We 
sat with throbbing hearts, in sorrow. “I will see General 
Davidoff, the Commandant; and, as soon as the papers 
reach him, which will be at once, I will then, on your 
behalf, write an instant petition for a commutation of 
the imprisonment! I will have my old friend the Gen- 
eral officially recommend it. I will get also Monsieur de 
Giers and Count Mouravieff’s recommendation, and 
then go at once to the Premier Tolstoi! I will ask the 
Grand Duke to aid. The whole family will join! In the 
meantime, till it is granted, I shall beg Davidoff not to 
put you in any closer confinement than this! Let me 
work this up!” He left me and I communicated the 
news of my sentence to Hermione. I wrote very briefly, 
with words of cheer. I did not dare to trust myself to 
believe them. And to-morrow, she would be cut off 
from me. I prepared brief notes in answer to my letters 
from the friends. I urged the now-relenting Zastrow to 
aid in my case at once. I would agree to leave Russia 
as soon as my sister was well enough to travel. I 
prowled around until Dimitri returned, and I learned 
that General Davidoff had kindly granted all his re- 
quests. I was now in the Commander’s hands and out of 
18 


274 


FOR HER LIFE. 


the orders of the Court! They had sentenced me as 
heavily as they dared. Being a military court, and I 
being a civilian, I could not be legally fined by them. 
The imprisonment was evidently given in the hopes I 
would serve it out, and thus be powerless to help Hermi- 
one. Evidently, General Haxo was sure of her now! 
Trepoff prepared to go. How long had we left to work 
in? I feared to ask. “Dimitri,” said I, with the greatest 
anxiety, “when will Hermione be tried?” His eyes were 
haunted with a burning sorrow now. He gazed hope- 
lessly at me. “To-morrow at ten!” was his reply, in a 
hollow tone. “My God! Redouble every effort! You 
must be here, for her safety; but leave your servant to 
stay on watch at the house. Bring the sewing woman 
or the man if they have any news! Without that lock- 
smith, without a hold on the Dauvray, we can never baf- 
fle Haxo!” “I will do it,” he pledged. He then left, 
taking the letters and promising to get me the money 
now — the great lever. I whiled away the weary day im- 
patiently. When evening fell, I tried in vain to read or 
pass my time. Every hour rang out like a knell. Her- 
mione’ s face was ever before me, in pleading suffering. 
My God! I was tied down to the stake! I would be 
haunted my whole life by her sad memory! Before the 
Tartar bugles sang “taps,” I received a sealed packet 
from the woman I could not see — through the warden. 
Its receipt caused me to hand him my last ready fifty 
rouble note! He smiled wishfully. How could I tell 
him that I must see Hermione? I dared not trust any 
one but Trepoff. I only could confide this even to 
him — my plan — when Hermione had faced her judges. 

I would then try the heavy money bribe myself, as a last 
resort. At least, I would know her last wishes, and ac- 
cept her trusts of honor — perhaps her messages — from 
the grave. 

The packet was endorsed as follows: 

“To be read only, at my request, after conviction. In 
case I can communicate, then read this as soon as possi- 
ble, after my death. The sealed letter within has my 
last wishes — to be opened in case of my death. I re- 


FOR ITER LIFE. 


275 


questWalter Grahame and Major Trepoff to countersign 
the will and then have the bank notary certify to my 
signature. He knows it. It is only a matter of justice. 
Keep this authorization and show it to the notary. 

“Hermione de Vries.” 

Around it was a slip : 

“Let Trepoff keep these papers for you till you need 
them, or until after I am dead. They might be stolen 
from you here! They are, then, a joint trust. H.” 

I concealed the papers till the morning would give me 
a chance to give them quietly to Trepoff. He could have 
them deposited for me at the American Legation. They 
would be safe there ! I knew well why my official friend 
there had abstained from personally mixing too much in 
my trial. He feared, perhaps, the ill-will of the authori- 
ties and his recall. It might interfere also with his dip- 
lomatic promotion. Still, all my papers would be safe 
there, sealed under my name! I was done now with all 
possible precautions. The morrow would usher in the 
first day of Hermione’s dreadful ordeal; and, alas, I 
feared it would be a stern and short proceeding. I fell 
asleep with prayers on my lips for the poor woman, who 
was on the brink of destruction. Gun-fire woke me 
again a weary man. Weird sad dreams had haunted me 
all night. I tossed and troubled my poor brain, with 
thinking over every element of help for the dauntless 
woman alone there in that dreary cell! Two things 
were at once available. Money and influence. The last 
resource, was our united mental ability to throw some 
light on how those papers got in the box. To baf- 
fle Haxo; for her real crime was undetected — 
the cipher deliveries. Money — yes! I would use 
it liberally, and promise even more. Yes! that was 
the bait to tempt a Russian official of the lowest orders. 
Greed and need go together. Had Hermione available 
money? Could she promise a large contingent reward? 
No! I would arrange her resources to keep her, if im- 
prisoned a long time. Money is useful in every prison. 
As she knew the “bank notary,”— an independent sort of 


276 


FOR HER LIFE. 


international business functionary, — I was sure that she 
could arrange to use her treasure to great advantage, if 
she lived to need it. If only I could keep up a line of com- 
munication! But — for how long? Influence! We had 
done all we could till the dead issue of pardon or no par- 
don was met. The mere possession of Nihilistic docu- 
ments in Russia brings a death sentence, perforce. The 
sly French spy had done her work well! That was a 
concrete fact. We had to meet it flatly. Now, to sur- 
round all the actors in the trial with friends of ours who 
would spy out a joint in their official armor. Two people 
were the central figures. Their collusion must be shown! 
The cool Haxo was the first! If we could only catch 
him napping and prove, that he set a vile trap! If he 
went beyond his duty to lure in a prey he thirsted for! 
This might save Hermione — at the last! Then, the false 
governess! Her role was the most hated in Russia. A 
female Judas, a “mouchard,” and, a household traitress! 
Could we prove that? I hoped the most from the liberal 
use of money now! Even a political prison has its “buy- 
able” subordinates ! The “order” did all it could to keep 
spies and friends among the fort garrisons, the coast 
artillery, and the navy at Cronstadt. Money would do 
much among these poorly paid military and naval peo- 
ple, as discontent broods quickly and strangely among 
soldiers and sailors. They are all poor and needy, and 
also linger cooped up in a tantalizing nearness to all the 
expensive pleasures of large cities and seaports. Yes! 
now the voice of money would be potent. As for the 
Nihilist emissaries in the prison and fortress, they were 
far safer there than wandering in Petersburg or Moscow. 
They had here no great force of “mouchards” and 
household spies always ready to run them down. Their 
very presence was an implied proof of loyalty; for the 
strong prison watched itself. Even janissaries get tired 
now and then. Soldiers and sailors seldom take kindly 
to giving up the smaller criminals. Punished freely al- 
ways themselves, they have a general sympathy for all 
suffering prisoners. It is the world’s kindly creed! So, 
it did not astonish me to find some devoted socialists 
even in the great fortress of Petropaulosky. Under the 


FOR HER LIFE. 


277 


very nose of the Russian police, who looked over them in 
ignorance — were men who frustrated the cut and dried 
official dirty work planned out. Breakfast brought Trep- 
off to me. He was outwardly calm and had good news 
as to my own sentence. It would almost surely be re- 
mitted ; but only after a later review of the case and some 
little formality! Besides, General Haxo did not hesitate 
to request the Minister of the Interior to keep me locked 
up till after Hermione’s trial. Reasons of state! The 
General was unconsciously helping Hermione in one 
way. 

“Here is your money, 1 ” said Trepoff, as he handed me 
several packets of notes. Each one of these would have 
made an ordinary peasant rich for life. This was to me 
now concrete power! I thanked him, and at once con- 
cealed them. He returned all my official papers which 
had been taken from me at my trial. General Davidoff, 
with great courtesy, had sent them over to me! A let- 
ter from Justine Zastrow told me “all was well/’ on the 
Admiralty quai. I had assured her I was in no real 
danger now. She was preparing, at my suggestion, to 
leave Russia for a long visit, as soon as Madeleine was 
better and I free. We would take our little family frolic 
“over the border.” Madeleine knew as yet nothing of 
my actual whereabouts. No needless excitement for 
her! The rest of the friends were faithful; only waiting 
for a tangible basis on which to present their prayer for 
the pardon of Hermione, or a mitigation. And our de- 
tectives? As to the governess, so far she had only left 
the house while driving an hour or so with her little 
pupil. A strange man had called and asked the “dvor- 
nik” for her, and he had sent in only to find that the 
French woman was away! That was all the current 
news. A poor barren prospect so far. “Dimitri,” I 
asked, “when are the witnesses ordered to be here, ready 
for the trial?” “All will come at eleven o’clock!” he re- 
plied. It was a frightfully close race for a life. “That 
woman will surely communicate with the man who 
called on her before she comes here to-day,” ^ said I. 
“Just what I foresaw,” answered the Major. “And I 
have left our two spies to watch her every movement. 


278 


FOR HER LIFE. 


and then follow her up! If she meets any strange man 
or makes a suspicious stop, one of them will report to us. 
The other will follow the party and keep an eye on him 
also. My servant is now shadowing the party, to help 
and get them a sleigh, or to come over here and call me 
out! I tried to think of all !” he wearily said. 

“This is our last and only chance,” I replied, as I went 
to the window. The outlook was mournful. Dark, 
leaden skies, a few sea birds lazily wheeling here and 
there over the icy flood and wailing with harsh, discord- 
ant cries. The wind was whistling keenly by. Snow- 
laden roofs, with frosted pinnacles, rose far beyond the 
river, where the “outside prisoners” lived. It was a sorry 
prospect! What difference while in Russia whether I 
was inside or outside of a prison? Tyranny was talked 
of everywhere! I turned back heart-sick. The whole 
land was a prison to me. 

“I will go away half an hour before the hour of as- 
sembly to the court. I may find out some new points. 
I will send you back a note by my man. Stay! I will 
leave some bundles of papers here, so that I have an ex- 
cuse to send him over to you !” It recalled me to a grave 
trust! “Papers! Yes! Hermione’s papers! I must 
secure them.” I had enveloped and sealed them all with 
an indorsement to have them delivered to my sister Jus- 
tine or Trepoff in case of my death. I inclosed a letter to 
her, to let Dimitri Trepoff alone read them all! I bade 
her also act under his guidance, — after studying them 
herself. For, now I feared even for my own life! These 
I gave to Trepoff, who promised to see them deposited 
in the Legation safe, with a receipt in my name and my 
sisters. There they were safe from police search until 
the opening hour should come. Tramp! tramp, up the 
stone stair, came a guard. 

“What is that, Dimitri?” I cried, in a sudden new tre- 
mor. “It is a guard to take Hermione to the court- 
room,” said the Major. And, as he thrust my packet in 
his inner breast pocket, he rebuttoned his uniform coat 
and quickly grasped turban, sword and cloak. 

“I am off!” said he, breathlessly. “I fear I might do 
some crazy act here, — and — ruin all!” 


FOR HER LIFE. 


279 


“One moment, Trepoff!” I cried; “do they bring her 
down here? Down our corridor?” My heart was quiver- 
ing strangely. 

“Yes!” he said, impatiently. 

“Wait, then,” I cried; “wait till they come! I may see 
her, — if you go out, —as they pass here. For God’s sake, 
wait !” 

“That is true,” he groaned. “I’ll stay,” — and he mo- 
tioned to the old Sergeant on watch, who quickly un- 
locked my cell door. Five minutes seemed to me, then, 
an age! Down the hall came the heavy cadenced tread 
of the guard. Trepoff’s hand was on the door. Nearer, 
nearer, now the marching feet sounded! It was like a 
death-knell to our slender hopes! 

“Now!” I whispered. He then quickly flung wide the 
door with a clang. The startled soldiers turned aside, 
seeing a decorated officer of high rank. That “white 
cross” was a badge of the highest standing! In the midst 
of the guard, clad in dark robes, her heavy fur cloak 
drawn close around her, Hermione stood as one inspired! 
Her hands were tightly clasped! The dark, lustrous 
eyes shone out deepened with a tender light! Her beau- 
tiful, noble face was as pale as marble! Ah! God! what 
a vision of pallid beauty! Only a Murillo could render 
the sad, devoted, thrilling softness of those speaking 
eyes! One picture at the Hermitage is like this! And, — 
then, over her delicate, proud face a smile broke faintly, 
as coldly bright as the glitter of the autumn sun on the 
snowy peak of the ghostly Jungfrau! It was her parting 
greeting — a silent adieu! Her lips moved! I flashed a 
single glance of caution! Her last look was to me a 
benison, a blessing, an appeal. The woman heart spoke 
through those shining depths to me of her gratitude, 
and — to Dimitri — of a love beyond the grave — deathless 
— eternal! The sturdy soldiers closed in; their officer 
saluting, as Trepoff, with one last look at me, — strode 
down the prison stairway, before that lovely lady. He 
was a knight battling in her defense! She was, alas, a 
“State Criminal,” now! a “Martyr” soon to be! And 
—on the very edge of her open grave, for 
her life— he dared not speak. The last echoes 


280 


FOR HER LIFE. 


died away! The old Sergeant locked the door. 

I threw myself on the couch; and that gloomy cell 
echoed to a man’s heart-broken sobs! Minutes dragged 
along to hours! I could not read; — I feared I should 
be mad! I tried to write! — useless! I vainly paced the 
cell like a caged tiger! The long, weary day wore on in 
agony. Would they take a recess? Would murder fol- 
low its poisoned trail slowly? Would the brutal effec- 
tiveness of the court be shown in a “quick dispatch” of 
this forejudged case? I strode up and down like a caged 
wolf! Alas! Helpless to aid her now! Ah! No! It was 
“Russian policy” to draw out these last hours. She 
might then perhaps break down in nerve ! She would be 
jaded and wearied with details, so as to be weakened be- 
yond resistance when questioned! The state took no 
risks — and — played with its victim! Mountains of papers 
would be written up — so that the Czar’s ministers would 
have a cord of official documents, to refer to, if any 
murmur of sympathy should reach the ear of the manly 
and right-minded Czar. An appeal might touch the ten- 
der heart of the wistful, womanly, terror-haunted Czar- 
ina! 

Far from the land which bore her, and the friends of 
her modest girlhood, that lovely Danish Princess bore 
for years her Imperial honors wearily, under the heavy 
pressure of the diamond tiara of the Romanoffs. It 
presses heavily with the great blood-red ruby, gleaming 
over the white brilliants! The heaviest crown in the 
wide — wide world! Blood is always on the snows of 
Russia! I noted not the lapse of time. My poor ITer- 
mione was being hunted down to death! Over on the 
angle of the bastion the blue and white ensign flapped 
like a vulture’s wing on the cold air. I cursed my help- 
lessness! And — Trepoff’s sufferings — only doubled 
mine! The door opened! I sprang up as if shot! Ah! 
yes — the usual meal was provided! For, eating goes on 
in all scenes with passive necessity of recurrence. Bitter 
morsels are those eaten in solitude, handed to a prisoner 
by a tyrant’s jailer. Where was Trepoff — braving a 
world in his awful repression now? I kept my calmness, 
as well as I could. I swore that I would not break down 


FOR HER LIFE3. 


28 i 


before these exemplars of how low a stratum there can 
be in what we call “Humanity!” And, yet I was alone! 
Dimitri had to play his poor part, certainly! And, Serge 
tied down on a sick-bed! 

Trepoff came, hastily, with anxious brow. He drew me 
to the end of the room. 

“Recess for an hour! I have just received a letter from 
Mouravieff. You are pardoned, — to take effect on the 
conclusion of this matter! Then, you must leave Russia 
at once, — conducted to the frontier. Nothing new yet 
from the other side. A note was sent me by my man. 
They were then leaving the house to watch the governess 
on her way! She was taking a sleigh, alone, to come 
over here.” He paused. “As a witness, too!” 

“And, Hermione?” I quickly queried. 

“The court assembled promptly. Some good men sit 
on it. The same judge advocate. They assigned one 
of our best military lawyers to her defense. She bears 
up well. He does all he can.” 

“The charges!” I cried, in anxiety. 

“High treason, — conspiracy, — false impersonation, — 
having contraband documents; — four in all!” said he, 
bitterly. “Charges enough to hang twenty!” 

“She pleaded?” I interrupted. 

“Not guilty! She excepted to the jurisdiction, as not 
being a Russian subject; — ‘overruled’ — was the reply of 
the President.” 

“Who has testified?” I continued. 

“Luboff, — General Haxo’s tool, — General Haxo him- 
self, — the Dvornik, — the State — (by the Interior Office 
register) — and the two police agents who followed you 
from Zastrow’s to the Winter Garden. That is all, this 
morning,” he concluded the list. “But it’s more than 
enough,” he groaned. 

“What did they prove?” I asked, with burning eager- 
ness. 

“Only the false impersonation ;— nothing positive yet 
about those damnable papers,” was his reply. “Of course, 
they will put anything in they choose!” 

“And who remains for the afternoon?” I questioned. 

“Mademoiselle Dauvray, and myself, the Captain 


282 


FOR HER LIFE. 


of the Guard, and the two Countesses Komarofif, who 
have volunteered through General Zastrow. They have 
Mouravieff’s approval to testify as to the affairs at the 
opera: — and Hermione’s general good conduct/’ replied 
Trepoff. 

“God bless them! I suppose they have only done so 
to be able to see the poor woman face to face — and let 
her know their kindness will follow her to the foot of the 
scaffold,” he continued. 

“They are noble women,” I rejoined. “Serge is get- 
ting a lovely little heroine for a wife! Vera is an an- 
gel ! My testimony will be only as to the package being 
found where it was. That I can’t deny,” said Trepoff, 
with a groan. 

I forced him to eat something. His cheeks burned in 
fever. His trembling hand shook as he lifted the glass 
of wine I forced on him. 

“I am afraid I will betray myself,” he murmured, — 
and then said: “I sent Serge home to my quarters to 
stay there, if we should find out anything!” said Trepoff, 
sadly. “He dragged out of bed to come — at great risk. 
I fear it is useless.” 

“Hope on to the last!” I cried. I did not yet despair! 
The recess time was now up. Hermione had not been 
reconducted. Her dinner was sent to her at the council 
room! And — the rank of the Komaroff ladies allowed 
them a chance to speak to her — a blessing of God, now! 
Trepoff was at the door. I felt a presentiment of some 
important news! My heart told me that there were an- 
gels toiling for the helpless one! 

“Dimitri,” I said, “send me word what testimony the 
governess gives! Has she arrived yet?” His face hard- 
ened. 

“Just as I came to the keep, she drove up,” said my 
friend. “I will get the Brigade Major to bring you over 
a note. I want to watch all and cheer Hermione with my 
presence! She is a dauntless woman — a born queen! 
The Adjutant knows you are pardoned, so there will be 
only a formal restraint now! Be cautious to the last!” 
He wrung my hand and disappeared. 

A long hour wore away. I took up the wolf’s pace 


FOR HER LIFE. 


283 


again around my casemate parlor! I was counting time 
on the watch, which lay open on the table! The sound 
of footsteps roused me. Was it Trepoff? No! — it was 
the genial Brigade Major! He entered and greeted me 
most courteously. Trepoff had told him of my pardon. 
He was disposed to be very indulgent, to what he con- 
sidered a foolish escapade of an American tourist! 

“You must not mind this — no Russian will blame you 
for standing by a woman!” The dawning friendship of the 
Mouravieffs, Komaroffs, and the connection with the 
Zastrows, was the “open sesame” to his regard. For, 
Serge and Trepoff were both beloved by all the mili- 
taires of note, and they all risked their lives — under the 
same banner! Fie told me the Countesses Komaroff 
were cheering the prisoner now. I asked him as to the 
trial, — its probable result. His face darkened at once! 
Fie shook his head gravely, handing me, carelessly, a 
note from Trepoff. 

“It is against my duty to speak of the trial! We must 
see all here — in silence!” I opened the note quietly and 
sprang to my feet, and cried out: 

“Glory to God!” The blase Brigade Major gazed at 
me in a curious wonder. All Americans were strange 
fish to him! — and, in popular Russian estimation, were 
more or less crazy! I caught my breath and then con- 
trolled my joy; — for I had a secret now — a joyous one! 
It took my breath away! The note was a harbinger of 
hope! I pored over its words: 

“Found the right man! I am going to meet Serge! 
News later. The smith lives half-way out to Aboukhoff. 
—will surely communicate to-night! The French devil 
has just perjured herself, foully. She is a fiend; — don’t 
detain the Brigade Major; — he will watch over Her- 
mione’s case while I am away. I want to get back to 
hear her own testimony. Hope on! Destroy this! 

“Trepoff.” 

“Where is the Major gone to?” I asked with an ap- 
parent carelessness. 

“He was summoned to the city and then went off like 


284 


FOR HER LIFfi. 


a shot. I must go back now. By the w T ay, Grahame, 
— you have had a hard time! I want you to breakfast 
at the “mess” before you leave us! Of course, we must 
wait for your official papers,” he added with a smile. “You 
must not think hardly of Russia.” I scarcely heard him. 
but I bowed my thanks. Gallant fellow! 

“Has the governess finished her testimony?” said I, 
as the Major reached the door. 

“Partly,” he said, with some hesitation. “She will be 
cross-examined, after a little, and I hope that her testi- 
mony will be broken. It bears hard on that poor 
woman, I fear,” said the Major, with a sigh, as he nodded, 
and then walked away. 

The blood surged like flame through my veins. Great 
God! Had they really found the right man? I prayed 
in my heart for one gleam of sunshine in all this gloom ! 
Was it too late to expose Haxo’s wiles? I feared so. I 
lay down to rest. I needed it. The dark afternoon set- 
tled to a still darker evening. Heavy flakes of snow fell 
outside. I could not see the parade ground. The man 
now lit up the lights. I resigned myself to the madden- 
ing excitement of waiting for the news from Dimitri. 
Would he never return! I measured the cell a hundred 
times in vain. In an hour and a half, I heard the tramp 
of the guard, bringing Hermione back to her cell. I did 
not dare to make any demonstration. I could not trust 
myself now. The old Sergeant was watching me. I 
feared to complicate the jailer, and then lose my only 
friend. My heart went out in silent prayer to 

her. If ever a prayer pierced the steel and 
stone of a gloomy prison, it was mine for 

her safety, — for some adequate punishment for her reck- 
lessness, instead of the nameless “horrors of the con- 
demned cell!” Her one fatal quest, the forfeit of a life! 
Supper came, and my old Sergeant was now watching 
with cunning, glittering eyes! He was still “rouble 
hunting.” I did not need him yet! Time enough yet to 
apply the remedy for him. When he could earn his cure! 
As the jailer put down the tray, I saw a bit of paper 
crumpled in his hand. I walked toward the door, as he 
shut it, and then soon was possessed of it. I devoured 


FOR HER LIFE. 


285 


it eagerly. It might be the last note to me! The Queen 
of Forget-me-nots wrote: 

“I am lost! The governess has sworn to every pos- 
sible falsehood. Trepoff is noble. He swore only to the 
finding of the packet. The Komaroff ladies were angels 
of kindness. Their dear eyes cheered me! I fear the very 
worst! I have poison, but I will wait to the last mo- 
ment. I am to be examined to-morrow — and, the forged 
papers will be then produced. Anything from Trepoff? 
Quand m6me. I am willing to see it closed up — this fitful 
fever! Hermione,” 

^es! it was “quand meme.” “Even to the last !” Poor 
defenseless woman! I did not dare let her know of the 
new hopes; — but if a discovery came I would notify her 
if I used every rouble in my pocket. And where 
were Dimitri — and Serge?— the friends who should now 
work! It was now six o’clock. Taps were at nine. 
Would Serge succeed? I beat my brains in vain! That 
poison! How did Hermione get it? The merciful “sis- 
ter of the order” had given it to her, undoubtedly. The 
“Central Section” of twenty-five trusted “ones” had the 
gloomy duty in Petersburg of furnishing the doomed 
with the means of cheating the rack or dishonor and pre- 
venting final disclosures. So far Durand had trusted me. 
That rash attempted suicide at the Zastrows would tell 
against her with her remorseless judges! Why should 
an innocent woman kill herself? Simply to escape the 
lingering horrors of a Russian prison pen! Numbers 
had done so! I fear numbers will do so yet! And, other 
prisons of the world are worse than the military dun- 
geons of Russia! I waited while the weary hours slowly 
passed. Sentinels and the clanging guard clanged to and 
fro. No news — no news! It was very near taps, — when 
a Sergeant and three men came to the door. 

“The prisoner Grahame was to be taken at once to the 
Adjutant’s office to see the Brigade Major,” the old Ser- 
geant interpreted. I was excited. Would I be cut off 
from Hermione? I threw on my coat and took my hat. 
Was there any new complication in my case? Had Haxo 


286 


FOR HER LIFE. 


taken some sly step to involve and detain me? I resolved 
all this as I walked, in a heavy snowstorm, over the pa- 
rade ground. I appreciated the delicacy of being a lonely 
“American Sovereign” far away from the land of Equal- 
ity! I sighed for its meanest alley now! Ushered in by 
the guard, I found the Brigade Major at his desk. He 
lost no time in performing his “pleasing duty.” 

“I sent for you,” said he, “to notify you that you have 
been pardoned and will be discharged in three days. I 
congratulate you!” said the Major, warmly, as he shook 
my hand. As he did so, he blushed. I felt a letter in it. 
The Adjutant dismissed me with a nod. He was a gal- 
lant friend — “under the rose” — and — a good fellow, too! 

“Return the prisoner! — quickly, before taps! The 
gates are now closing,” said the officer, sharply; — and so 
I marched away in military double time ! I hurried to the 
quick step of the guards, through the darkness of the 
night. Did I hold gladness or misery — victory or de- 
feat — in my hand? The neat little surprises of life in an 
official boarding-house! I still hoped for good news, 
but I hardly dared to, now ! All had been so unfortunate, 
till the very moment. Every “smart” plan had failed! I 
thought of the useless Wilna visit — of the Warsaw de- 
parture so skillfully planned, — all to no purpose, : — of Cap- 
tain Serge Zastrow’s reckless exposure of us all, in a 
lame subterfuge! I was soon in my room. The guards 
left me. Loud bugles were already sounding out the 
first call for taps! My old Sergeant saluted and quickly 
disappeared to his vodka. The jailer shut my heavy door 
with a clang and locked it for the night! One inch of 
candle only! That was enough! I tore open the en- 
velope. It was Dimitri’s bulletin of triumph. Hurrah! 

“Have got the right man and the key used. He 
unlocked the box for the French woman while we were 
all at the opera. She was found dead, in an abandoned 
sleigh, near the bridge-head, on her way homeward, this 
evening! Executed! Strangled! Serge and I go to 
examine her baggage secretly. Every hope now! All 
depends on our joint secrecy; — will not approach the 
Emperor till Hermione’s trial is over. The police will 


FOR HER LIFE. 


287 


investigate Mdlle. Dauvray’s death. I think I have 
trapped Haxo! Silence! discretion! Not even a hint to 
the Adjutant! I will see you early. Hermione may be 
saved yet. 

“Trepoff.” 

I then threw myself, dressed as I was, on the couch; 
yet I slept in the dark prison like a happy child on its 
mother’s bosom. For, I was free at last, and — I saw the 
way out — of darkest Russia. But — Hermione! The star 
of hope shone through the stone walls of my dungeon at 
last. She might be saved from death — but — at what a 
fearful price — a prisoner, perhaps, for years! And — help- 
less there! Morning without daylight, again! It was 
only an “official morning;” for the “gun fire” so pro- 
claimed it, — for it was dark as night. I woke, and soon 
my Sergeant-valet reported. He was now very obse- 
quious. The news of my pardon had been spread by the 
guard: and the jailer knew it. Candles were lit, — warm 
tea soon steadied my nerves. They were all hunting for 
my roubles now! It all seemed like a dream. I waited 
anxiously for the arrival of Dimitri. It was yet dark. I 
knew I would have to await some glimmer of daylight 
before he could come! and, how would the new discov- 
ery be availed of? The governess dead! And, — who 
had slain her? I remembered Durand’s cross in the air! 
Nothing but an overmastering passion or a day of battle 
could rouse this luxurious officer at such an unearthly 
hour. His note had been destroyed. Should I warn Her- 
mione of the good news? No! — not until a positive con- 
firmation of them ! That would be a desperate responsi- 
bility: if anything intervened. I held my soul back in 
patience and waited. For, her lover alone should tell 
these tidings to her! It was hardly eight o’clock when 
Trepoff appeared. Rosy and freshly-shaven, he looked 
like an eager bridegroom, rather than a soldier on duty. 
I was finishing my breakfast. I lost no time. Lighting 
a cigar, we walked to the other end of the room. I did 
not fear to involve him now, by my open friendship. His 
sparkling eyes told me all the story! Seating himself on 


288 


FOR HER LIFE. 


the window-ledge, with his cigarette in full blast, he be- 
gan. I lit my cigar. 

“When I went down to the court, it had just assembled. 
I exchanged greetings silently with Hermione, as the 
governess was sworn. Her demeanor was admirable. 
She gave her name, profession and residence. Evidently 
she was coached up not to show any open feeling. The 
length of time it took her to arrive, had given her a 
chance to see Haxo himself, or to get her final orders 
at second-hand. The Judge Advocate skillfully drew out 
of her all the general facts. He then handed her the 
bundle of papers. The court rose ‘en masse!’ 

“ ‘Do you recognize this package?’ he asked. 

“ ‘I do,’ said she. Hermione’s eyes were riveted stead- 
ily on her now! 

“ ‘Where did you see it last?’ — from the Judge Advo- 
cate. 

“ ‘At General Michael Zastrow’s house, when it was 
sealed up by Major Trepofif and another officer,’ she re- 
plied. She was careful, and artful! 

“ ‘Please examine it and see if it is unbroken,’ was the 
next remark. 

“ ‘It is in the condition it was when it was shown to 
me!’ was her answer. 

“ ‘Very good,’ said the Judge Advocate. ‘You are ex- 
cused for a few moments.’ I was then called with the 
Captain of the Guard. We were both sworn. We were 
asked to identify the package and did so, as being sealed 
and intact. The Captain was excused. 

“ ‘While you are on the stand, Major Trepofif, will 
you break the seals and identify the documents,’ said the 
prosecutor. And, there, before my darling, I had to 
obey!” he groaned. “I did so, and verified their correct- 
ness, — from a list I was ordered to keep. I was forced to 
admit all the facts of their finding. The prosecution then 
rested, as regarded me. 

“I caught the eye of Hermione’s counsel. He proceed- 
ed to cross-examine me, gently. They all seemed careful 
not to worry me!” mused Dimitri. 

“ ‘Please examine the documents very carefully, and 
see that they are the same which you marked!’ said he. 


FOR HER LIFE. 


289 


I did so, and as I looked at them I noticed a date on sev- 
eral of the printed ones. It was three years back! My eyes 
sparkled. The counsel of my love understood me! I 
had a clue! I decided to get that on the record — for 
Palace use. 

“'Do you see anything strange in them?’ said he, 
gently feeling his way. 

“ 'Only the dates on these printed papers are over three 
years old!’ I remarked. This discovery made a general 
sensation! The French woman started. She then set- 
tled down to quietly examining Hermione from a dis- 
tance. 

“ 'That is all/ was the remark. I took my list and put 
it carefully away. The Captain was then examined, with 
the same result! He was not cross-examined, — we all 
agreed as to the main facts. He left the court. I was re- 
called for one more question. 

“ ‘Did you see anything suspicious in the behavior of 
the accused while in your cousin’s house as a guest?’ 

“ 'Nothing at all!’ I replied. I was finally excused and 
Mademoiselle Dauvray recalled! I knew that she had 
been permitted to hear our testimony to guide her up 
to build her story as strong as possible! 

“ ‘Now, Mademoiselle Dauvray, please to examine all 
these documents carefully,’ said the silken-voiced prose- 
cutor. The sleek spy pondered well over them. She did 
the work with care, and compared them with a list of her 
own! 

“ 'They are the documents taken from Madame’s jewel 
box in my presence, by Major Trepoff and the Captain, 
when the room was searched. Here is the wrapper they 
were in when found.’ This was a volunteer. 

" 'Do you know what they are?’ said the Judge Advo- 
cate. 

“‘Yes! They are nihilist documents and lists,’ said 
she, calmly, 'with a plan of conspiracy to kill his Majesty 
the Emperor!’ 

“I started now in surprise! She had told us all official- 
ly she did not read or write Russian! Either she had lied, 
or some one had told her what they were! And General 
Zastrow swears she could not read or write Russian! I 

19 


220 


FOR HER LIFE. 


met the eye of Hermione’s counsel. We were trapped. 
I could not be recalled now, save with the consent of the 
prosecution. That was now impossible, I knew; for Gen- 
eral Haxo, who sat by as an official, ‘hors de loi/ 
smiled as he saw me. He saw that his inspired work was 
being well done. Steadily and coolly the noose was be- 
ing tied! 

“ ‘Did you ever see these papers before the case was 
opened?’ said the Judge Advocate, hurrying along on 
his beaten path. 

“Hermione lifted her beautiful eyes to the cold face 
of the witness. 

“‘Yes,’ said she. Then, in a clear voice, which made 
my heart freeze: ‘I saw Madame put them in the box 
the night she returned from the opera.’ It was a fiendish, 
deliberate lie, — this giving a sister woman over to the 
cord and rack! Every head was lifted in the court! At 
last, Hermione was about to speak! Her counsel caught 
her arm. 

“ ‘How did you see this?’ immediately asked the prose- 
cutor. 

“ ‘I was passing the door as Madame returned, and I 
saw her slip a packet like this, from her bosom into the 
jewel box, as I went by!’ was the jezebel’s answer! I 
tried to catch her eye, — impossible. Even the prejudiced 
officers saw the weakness of this. He questioned, and 
tried to give her a chance to build up her yarn. 

“ ‘How did you come to be able to see this?’ 

“ ‘Ah! Madame was so beautifully dressed that I could 
not resist one look, as the door was partly open! — I ad- 
mire the lovely dresses so,’ said the female spy, with a 
faint sneer. 

“‘Did she see you?’ continued the prosecutor, — now 
very, very bland. 

“‘No! ? was the reply ‘I think she did not.’ — and, Her- 
mione’s eyes were blazing like flashing diamonds. 

“And so, this fiend continued to load every lie pos- 
sible on Hermione, until even the Court felt some de- 
cided animus was urging her on. 

“ ‘That will do,’ said the Judge Advocate, at last, tri- 
umphantly. The woman stepped away to sit down. Her- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


291 


mione looked like a marble statue, trembling to its fall. 
The shock to her was great! For, she seemed abandoned 
of God and man! 

“ ‘One moment/ said her counsel, and he was proceed- 
ing to cross-examine the governess, when my man sent 
in word by the orderly to me, ‘Please, come out instant- 
ly.’ I retired, with a cheering glance at the impassive 
Hermione, who now looked resigned. I sent for the 
Brigade Major, and then asked him to see you. I told 
him to then watch over our poor darling, as well as the 
two Princesses Komaroff. I sped out for the news, — 
with little hope — but I was overjoyed, for Serge had 
written me the news I sent you about the locksmith be- 
ing found! He added, then, ‘Come to me instantly at 
your rooms. Leave all!’ I jumped in my sleigh and 
dashed away. The sleigh-ride to my rooms was the 
quickest I ever made. Serge had Durand waiting there 
with her news. The French governess had gone into one 
of the police stations, and staid fifteen minutes; from 
there, she drove rapidly up the river bank to where the 
manufactories and small shops begin, alone, where you 
met Serge on your return from Wilna! And, like wolves, 
. — they followed her ! When she went at last, into one of 
the working locksmiths’ shops, — our man stopped the 
sleigh! He had shaved his beard off and muffled up his 
face. It was a very dark day yesterday, you know! 
While pricing some cheap cutlery, — he watched that 
fiend, who talked with one of the master workmen. She 
finally handed him something in a package and some 
money. Here was the man we sought! But how to get 
him? She then went out, wrapped herself up, and drove 
toward the fortress. It was the belief of the two people 
that she was leaving her own false key for safety with 
the man, and paying him liberally. He had evidently 
called on the governess for money, perhaps, having 
heard of Hermione’s arrest. Very likely she got her 
money from the police to pay him! Our man on watch 
went to the shop door and then made his signal! The 
woman left her sleigh to wait, at a wine-shop near ; the 
driver, too, knew his business well. He, going into the 
shop, told the man where it was. Then, with a descrip- 


292 


FOR HER LIFE. 


tion of the smith, she took another sleigh, near, and re- 
ported to Serge, who sent for me!” I was breathless 
with a growing excitement. 

Trepoff took a glass of wine, and said: “I will be brief. 
I sent my man at once to bring the workman to my 
rooms on some pretended work of the most immediate 
necessity. By the time my valet got there, our spy had 
the locksmith in a very good humor! They had visited 
the vodki shop a dozen times, as he had given him some 
little alterations of an immediate nature, on a bit of fancy 
goods he bought! A few roubles, and a drink started 
the locksmith away off happy, to me ! Serge and I were 
now all ready! The woman, too, was at hand. I had a 
couple of my old soldiers who are devoted to me, also, in 
the house. I could not believe it possible that I would 
catch the man so easily. 

“Soon my valet drove up, — the smith was with him ! I 
had just broken the lock of my English gun-case so as to 
have a ready excuse. I at once proceeded to my busi- 
ness! In my table drawer, I put a good hunting knife 
within reach. My trusty valet watched the door, — and, 
— I had drawn the curtains for my tableau! The smith 
was half tipsy. T must take this off and take it home to 
fix it,’ he blundered out. ‘These English locks are hard 
to repair. It will take some time, Barin! A bad break!’ 
I knew it very well! 

“ ‘Can’t you fix it like you did the lock the other day 
at the Admiralty Quai house?’ I said, impatiently. 

“ ‘Where?’ said he. 

“‘At my cousin Zastrow’s!’ 

“‘Oh! yes! I can, — but I had to make that key at 
home. I took the impression of the lock the day before. 
It was a very hard job. The lady gave me a royal price 
— twenty-five roubles! So, I worked all day to make 
the key. I had to fit it to the lock afterwards at the room ! 
The French lady did not want to break the lock! Her 
mistress must not know she had lost the key, — so, she 
said!’ 

“So, that she devil was smart enough to lie to him. 
I was now half wild with excitement!” — and, then, Trep- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


293 


off grimly smiled. “Serge was sitting by quietly smok- 
ing, and hearing all. I said: 

“ ‘Have you seen her since?’ He gave me a leer 
of natural cunning. He was startled, and yet he wanted 
‘more roubles.’ He thought that he scented an intrigue, 
or a valuable secret. 

“That was enough! He was lying, too! I caught him 
by the throat and choked him like a dog, holding the 
bare knife to his heart. 

“ ‘Give me the key she left with you to-day, or, by God! 
I’ll run you through!’ said I, as I pricked him with the 
sharp point; — and how he howled! He whitened to 
ashes, and fell on his knees and bawled like a calf! — one 
of the boors ! 

“‘Oh, Barin! for God’s sake, put that knife down! 
I’ll give up the key to you,’ he bellowed. T have it! She 
told me to keep it with me, for fear ’ 

“I gave the drunken scoundrel a shake, and then 
threw the knife on the table. I rang for my man and sent 
him out for my own notary! One of my old soldiers kept 
an eye on the frightened fool, who gave up his key. 

“In half an hour, we had his deposition, which Boris 
countersigned as eye witness. I took the real key of the 
box and the notary sealed the two together. I sent the 
notary away. I have got this fellow now in my house 
under guard, — to produce him, when wanted.” Trepoff’s 
eyes gleamed as he continued: “Now, by this time, it 
was four o’clock. Serge was helped into the sleigh with 
me. We drove down to General Zastrow’s to confer with 
him. 

“When we got there, several secret agents and an offi- 
cer were waiting in the hall. I pushed my way in, sus- 
pecting some new trouble! Serge and I were taken in 
the small salon by the old General, who was broken 

down. . , 

“ ‘I thank God you are here,’ he said. Poor old 

Michael! , 

“ ‘What is the matter?’ we both cried. We were in the 

dark. He said: 

“Mademoiselle Dauvray has just been found dead on 
the bridge seated in the abandoned sleigh, No. 371, which 


294 


FOR HER LIFE. 


brought her back from the court martial this afternoon. 
The driver, too, is missing!’ — and the old General quite 
broke down! 

‘“Another vile scandal!’ we both cried out. ‘Impos- 
sible! — Mademoiselle Dauvray dead!’ 

“ ‘It is only too true!’ said Zastrow. ‘She had crossed 
on the boat-bridge, on the way home; she was found 
strangled, with a heavy double cord slip-noose, which 
was deeply buried in her neck! She was frozen stiff when 
found, and had probably been dead an hour. The sleigh 
had been abandoned in a dark alley, only a few blocks 
from the bridge-head. The horse was standing there 
alone, in the snow!’ 

“ ‘How did you hear this?’ 

“ ‘The mounted Cossack patrol saw the sleigh go on 
the bridge, with the driver, and one man sitting beside 
the lady. They then turned into the alley. He thought 
the two men had only got out for a drink, at a cafe near 
by, and the woman was holding the horse! They did 
not seem to return. The woman in the sleigh never 
moved! It alarmed the patrol. He rode up and spoke 
to her. She did not answer! He sprang off his horse, 
and found that the silent woman was seated there stone 
dead. Her furs had been turned up around her neck to 
hide her face! She was already cold,’ said the wearied 
General, whose house was one of horror now, as well as 
suspicion! ‘I can not have her — her remains brought 
here to my home!’ He had a horror of murders and all 
these startling novelties. 

“ ‘What did the Cossack do?’ we both asked in a breath. 
I was stunned at this vengeance, — so swiftly striking her 
down! And, I saw again that shadowy cross in the air. 

“ ‘Why, he instantly called the relief, and sent for a 
police inspector, — a man whom I know well, who drove 
down at once. The guard kept the curious crowd away ! 
The sleigh was then driven to the nearest ward station!’ 

“ ‘Who did this?’ was asked, eagerly. 

“ ‘The nihilists,’ said General Zastrow, solemnly. ‘Some 
of that hidden under-world!’ 

“ ‘How do you know that?’ was our query. 

“He quietly opened his pocketbook and then handed 


FOR HER LIFE. 


295 


me a little paper. I seized it,” continued Trepoff. “It 
read, in good, round Russian: 


‘Josephine de FOrme. Police Spy. 
‘Executed for her crimes. 

‘Ask for Mile. Dauvray — at 
‘General Michael Zastrow’s.’ 


“The General continued: ‘This inspector had often 
seen my governess. He then opened the woman’s cloak 
and found this paper pinned to her breast. He quietly 
removed it and has made no report of this yet. Nothing 
whatever was taken from her person! Pie has all her 
papers and valuables himself. He will make no official 
return till to-morrow, when he turns all in F ” 

“It is a strange vengeance!” I murmured, — as Trepoff 
continued his story: 

“Poor General Zastrow broke down then, — entirely 
overcome by all this new trouble ! ‘This has surely some 
connection with the trial!’ said’ he, anxiously.” 

“How will it affect her?” I asked. 

He shook his head in doubt. “Now, Grahame,” said 
Trepoff, “I must get at once over to the court! I’ll fin- 
ish my story briefly. I asked Zastrow to leave me there 
with Serge a minute. He did not as yet know of my sus- 
picions! But, Serge and I exchanged glances. T am 
going at once to the Inspector/ said I. ‘You have now 
a woman’s life in your hands! Get up stairs with some 
trusty help, and have all this dead witch’s trunks and 
boxes instantly carried into your room! Plide them! 
Leave all her loose clothes and small things just as they 
are; get Vera to help you! Don’t let her tell the old 
General!’ He saw the idea. ‘I want every paper in her 
rooms! Conceal those yourself!’ 

“ ‘Where are you going?’ said Serge to me, as I warned 
him to make a list of them all and have Vera mark them, 
too. 

“ ‘I am going to fight the devil now with fire ! I am 
going to bring that "locksmith here and open all the 



FOR HER LIFE. 




witch’s trunks! — also, I will see what papers she had 
hidden on her person! This Inspector is my sworn friend, 
luckily!’ 

“I got away to my rooms, sent the locksmith with his 
tools to be taken by my own valet into Serge’s room, by 
the back way. I also sent that sewing woman, who is 
as smart as a steel.trap, back. I told her what had hap- 
pened.” 

“What did she say, Major?” I broke in here. I knew 
now that Durand’s was the hand which doomed the 
French traitress! 

“‘Oh,’ she said, quietly; ‘some one has been evidently 
watching for her and caught her on the lonely way back 
in the dark, and then killed her on the bridge, so as to 
throw the blame on the ordinary criminal classes ! There 
are frequent crimes on that bridge!’ 

“I asked the woman, Walter, why she thought they 
did not throw her body overboard. She mused a mo- 
ment. ‘They may have wished her fate to be known; or 
else I suppose they were seen driving on the bridge and 
were afraid the governess might be missed at the other 
end, so they abandoned her in the alley!’ I agreed in 
this view. 

“I then left Zastrow’s and drove to the ward station. I 
know that Inspector well, as an old, very old, friend! I 
told him I wanted to see the papers and articles, as she 
had some of cousin Zastrow’s keys, for they had had their 
women search the body already. He gave me the whole 
bunch of keys. 

“ ‘Don’t let any one see you here, and get done quick- 
ly,’ said he. I sat down and examined the papers! In 
her purse was this little strip of paper! (and he exultant- 
ly showed me a small piece). Here it is!” said the Major. 
“Read it.” 

My hand trembled. It was as follows. A legacy of 
my dead enemy, now powerless: 


“Report for orders early to-mor- 
row morning. H.” 


FOR HER LIFE. 


297 


“That was all. I recognized General Haxo’s own writ- 
ing at once, as I handle all the secret papers at the Min- 
istry. I slipped this in my pocket. I called the Inspec- 
tor in. The rest were only the usual pocket articles of 
a lady. I said to him : 

“ ‘Look here, — I can’t tell these different keys apart. 
Can’t I take the whole lot? I will send them back by 
private messenger when we get ours !’ 

“ ‘Yes,’ said he; ‘I’ll seal them all together,, and you can 
give me a receipt for the number. You can tie a tag on 
each one belonging to Madame Zastrow. To-morrow I’ll 
give you all hers to keep in trust, — on an order from the 
Judge!’ 

“I joyously hastened away! I hurried to the house 
and went up to Boris’ room. We at once opened all her 
trunks with her keys and took out every single paper! 
The trunks were then carried back unseen, — while Serge 
and Vera quickly sorted the papers! 

“Madame Komaroff returned, then, from her outing, 
and my aunt entertained her. I drew General Zastrow 
aside. I told him he had kept a deadly, murderous spy 
in his house, for years, who had evidently secretly report- 
ed on all his affairs, and now had trapped poor Her- 
mione! Zastrow was half-crazed! I made him then sit 
down with Serge and myself, and number and initial ev- 
ery paper of the whole lot ! The valet, the locksmith, and 
the woman saw them all taken from her trunks! We 
then sent the servant out, and have agreed after a long 
talk, as follows: 

“We have Haxo now clearly involved! We will keep 
quiet about this till the whole trial is over! Haxo could 
not hear of the death, — until the court closed! He must 
have waited while the two agents gave their testimony,— 
and also the Countesses Komaroff,— who made a great 
impression, as they were not bullied. Their rank is too 
high! The Adjutant told me that Hermione rose and 
bowed her thanks as the two ladies left. They greeted 
her kindly, though in silence, — and then left the hall! 

“General Haxo drove leisurely home. He did not get 
the report of the murder till too late to keep the affair 
smothered! The news is all over the town now! Zas- 


298 


FOR HER LIFE. 


trow, Serge and I went up to the station, and then legal- 
ly identified the dead woman! She was evidently not 
robbed ! — but, had been simply strangled like a dog ; for 
the cord nearly met in her neck! It was firmly knotted 
also under the swelling! Any outcry was thus rendered 
impossible! The man in the sleigh must have held her 
up till she was dead, and then fled away with his accom- 
plice! Now, General Michael will watch the Emperor 
and ask an instant audience. I will handle Haxo. I 
shall surely tell Count Tolstoi all, — and do it this very 
night! Serge will inform Count Mouravieff and those 
Komaroff angels !” said the weary Trepoff. “We will see 
the Emperor and Empress both. We will now let Gen- 
eral Haxo play out his whole hand, and then quietly 
checkmate him! I will watch over Hermione night and 
day! God bless her!” He rose. It was only half an 
hour now till the court would again assemble ! Hermione 
was soon to be taken over, for her last terrible ordeal on 
the stand. 

“Trepoff,” said I, “you are a noble fellow. Now, for 
God’s sake, can’t you in some way ease our dear suf- 
ferer’s mind about this day’s fearful work? She will be 
tired out, — trapped, — and, perhaps, wait in agony all 
night! I am afraid that she will kill herself; — she can 
do it! She has the means!” I solemnly said. He started. 
I told this deliberately to goad him into action! I did 
not even now wish to let him know how I was communi- 
cating with her! It was my own little triumph! 

“What can I do?” he said. He was excited with the 
recital. I said: 

“You have the right to enter her cell on the order 
from Tolstoi. Go in, when the guard comes for her. 
Tell her there all that is prudent! If you had gone in 
there before, you might have been reported by the guard ! 
Haxo will not make a handle of it now; — he dare not! 
Speak rapidly to her, — in English! The guard will not 
be able to understand a single word! Tell her that I’ll 
watch over her every instant. Don’t raise her hopes, 
except to assure her you will finally save her life. She 
might otherwise lay hands on herself! Be sure to let 


FOR HER LIFE. 


299 


her know that French devil is dead ! They might startle 
her with that!” 

“I’ll do this at once! Good-bye! Think all over and 
advise me. I will be back at recess,” replied the impa- 
tient Major. 

The guard was tramping up the stair. He went out 
and placed himself at their head. The officer naturally 
supposed him to be on special duty! He did not want to 
show his Tolstoi order until forced to do so, to head off 
General Haxo’s schemes! The trial over, the chief would 
try and attack her personally some way! We feared all 
possible treachery now. For we knew the past! I heard 
the musical voice once more, speaking quickly to Trep- 
off, as they passed my door. Blessed fortune! Her mind 
was eased with knowing her friends had not left her to 
perish in helpless sorrow! — and the star of hope faintly 
gleamed again. An hour passed away. Seated at the 
embrasured window, gazing out on the dark Neva, for it 
was again a gloomy day, — I wondered at the changing 
destinies of poor Mortality ! — of the poor, little games we 
all busy ourselves with here below! The deep, designing 
adventuress, governess, spy and traitress had run her 
dark race to the end! So, it was both revenge, money 
and protection in her case! The hidden power of the 
police, Haxo’s personal protection, — and all her skillful 
womanly wiles were all unavailing! She was lying there 
dead; — killed in her very hour of triumph, — and had 
recrossed that “bridge of sighs” as a corpse! — strangled 
like a wild animal, — without a single word of pity. I 
wondered what was hissed in her dying ear, as the fatal 
noose was jerked home! What other horrible treasons 
rose to her startled conscience as the grip tightened? The 
beautiful, betrayed and hunted Hermione, her victim, 
still lived, — and her would-be destroyer was cold in 
death! Fortune’s rolling wheel! For, “Vengeance is 
mine, saith the Lord, — I will repay!” What would be the 
effect of this? We could not be connected with the death 
in any way; — all our hands were tied. All the family, 
too, were far above any suspicion. General Zastrow 
was at home; Serge, at Trepoff’s rooms; and the latter 
in his own house! Hermione and I were in prison, and 


300 


FOR HER LIFE, 


even the two friendly spies were not on the streets ! Some 
old enmity would be sought for as a reason! Some hid- 
den slaughter by her lying tongue in past times. For — 
all Russia hates the police spy. What would a thorough 
examination of her papers prove? While these matters 
filled my mind, the minutes lengthened along into hours ! 

But one tie bound me now to Russia! When released 
and I had assisted to do all that my ability and experience 
would allow me for Hermione de Vries, I would take 
Madeleine and leave Russia, never to return ! They had 
made the pace a little too rapid for me; — I was tired of 
my sensational roles. The business matters were now so 
skeletonized, that I could direct and advise all easily 
from a distance! Justine Zastrow could come on to Ber- 
lin or Vienna, — as she chose, — and we could commune 
there in peace! I would myself keep out of the Bear’s 
den! Trepoff returned to me at half-past twelve. He 
was calm and hopeful. 

‘T have just heard from the house,” said he, as he gave 
me a cheering letter from my sister. “The General 
called personally this morning and had a very guarded 
interview with General Zastrow, who was very watchful 
and said proportionately little 1 He had ordered the 
rooms used by the dead woman to be sealed and await 
the authorities! Zastrow was formally notified to appear 
to-morrow at the investigation of her death ! 

“The news has been at once suppressed, for fear of 
exciting the nihilists to future successful crimes! The 
written report of the Inspector will be read to-morrow. 
The driver of public vehicle No. 371 has disappeared, and 
has either been murdered, or else was connected in some 
way with the crime! He seemed to be an honest enough, 
drunken, good-natured fellow, in his way. That man’s 
fate is a mystery. He can’t get very far away without 
papers ! His name and description, too, are known, from 
his driving license. He had his 'card,’ like all ‘Isvostich- 
iks.’ The locksmith knows now, too, that she is dead ! 
He will probably freely confess all! His employer is a 
most respectable man, and will also testify to her visits! 
Serge is at the house now, and directing all there. The 
old veteran is completely unmanned. Your Madeleine is 


FOR HER LIFE. 


301 


frightened again until she is half wild. All this is kept 
from your sister Justine, as far as it bears on our case. 
They will have a strange opinion of our associates.” 

“The trial, to-day?” I asked. 

“I saw Hermione and cheered her up with these new 
hopes!” — his eyes brightened as lie said this. “She was 
questioned at some length,” he replied. “She declined 
to give the Court her history and nationality, but she 
stated on oath she was not a Russian subject! She 
frankly admitted coming over the frontier irregularly! 
She said her innocently assuming the role of your sister 
was forced upon her! She also positively declared her 
entire ignorance of the fatal papers! Following my ad- 
vice, she said she could not tell how they came there! 
She repeated her own original decision to leave the land 
peaceably! No other objects would she admit. When 
questioned as to any part in conspiracy, she said that she 
had no associates and was engaged in no scheme! As 
for the testimony of the Dauvray woman, she contradict- 
ed it, saying it was absolutely impossible to be true! 
When asked if she had ever met the governess before 
abroad, — she answered simply, ‘No!' There was no break 
in Hermione’s clear, straight story! After some tedious 
efforts -to trap her, she was then questioned on her at- 
tempted suicide. She explained this on the ground of 
sudden excitement, and her desire to die rather than be 
arrested! T feared a Russian prison, from all I had heard 
of its severity/ she -calmly answered. When questioned 
as to the reason of her fears, she said that she was now 
afraid her life was sought by some powerful enemy: as 
her escort had been forced into a quarrel to the death, 
by an unknown officer, at the opera! This answer made 
a" great sensation! She was warned as to her refusals to 
answer any of the questions as being a grave cause of 
doubt, — and a new offense. ‘Contumacy!’ roared old 
Obranovitch. When asked further why she came to 
Russia, her reply was, ‘It is impossible for me to tell!’ 
The reasons were simply personal and private, — every 
woman has her own social life! — and more she would not 
say. The recess time approaching, the Court then took 
time to deliberate over her last refusals. She is still there, 


302 


FOR HER LIFE. 


in the ante-rooms, — her woman with her. The Brigade 
Major is watching every movement.” 

Trepoff was now exhausted, and rested himself on my 
couch till he had to leave for the Court, taking a slight 
lunch only. “It is an agony of hell to play my double 
part!” he groaned. I was also tired and wearied out, with 
all these different emotions. The most fatal admission 
of Hermione’s whole behavior was the attempt to take 
the poison, rather than be dragged to prison. How 
could we reasonably explain that to the Czar or Czarina? 
Only by referring to the attempts to hound us all down, 
and as the result of fear! And we must prove the hound- 
ing down! It was a long afternoon, this second fatal 
trial day. When the deepening shadows made the outer 
world a gloomy darkness, I heard the guard returning 
my “fair unknown” to her cell. Was it over now? I 
did not dare to speak as the exhausted Trepoff came in, 
dejected and hopeless! “It is all over now!” said the in- 
defatigable officer. “The addresses are all done. The 
Court will sit to-night, and then deliberate by candle- 
light. To-morrow at ten, the verdict will be publicly an- 
nounced! She is certainly doomed to this conviction, 
but her life shall be — must be — saved! I cheered her 
with my eyes,” said he; “and she is calm and resigned! 
I wonder at her self-sustained courage! Mine is gone!” 
he sighed. “I must go back now and examine every 
paper of the dead witch! General Zastrow has publicly 
offered to defray her funeral expense. He wishes to 
have his house quiet. Frankly, Grahame, he waits only 
to see your family depart! It has been a very unlucky 
visit!” Trepoff only stated a well known fact. “I cannot 
blame him, Major; I would feel the same sentiments my- 
self,” was my reply. “But, cheer up! You must check- 
mate this Haxo now. By the way, watch him to-mor- 
row. He will surely try and see Hermione alone, after 
the verdict! He will then endeavor to bully or delude 
her into a confession! You know his power.” “I will 
do that!” said Dimitri. “Then we will all open our bat- 
teries! He does not know how strong a chain I have to 
tie his cruel hands! For, I think, he is ‘boxed up’ now! 
That sewing woman Durand wanted to come over and 


FOR HER LIFE. 


303 


see you, as she knows you are pardoned. I will get her 
a pass,, and then send her over to-morrow. She is smart 
and faithful, and may be of further use to us! I keep 
away from. her, only for the safety of all” I thanked 
the energetic Trepoff, who disappeared, to go over and 
confer with the family. As I would be discharged in one 
day more, I decided not to write Justine, but first ex- 
plain. myself to my sister Madeleine, and then get out of 
Russia at once. I could not tell my suffering one the 
whole story till Hermione’s fate was finally decided! 
And, dare I tell her then? I was undecided yet! I 
passed a calmer night. My mind was resuming its bal- 
ance. I felt relieved to know the French woman per- 
manently removed. She had her just deserts. I felt 
sure General Haxo could not push Trepoff, Zastrow, 
Serge, the Komaroffs, and the great Count to the wall! 
These four working on the good Emperor, and the la- 
dies acting also to interest the noble Czarina, would 
save the life of the imprudent Hermione! We had the 
stronger battalions now. If we could only use them! 
Would Haxo dare to put Hermione out of the way? 
He might! To save himself, and — her fatal 
threat of suicide would shield him. I dared 
not alarm Trepoff. I decided, however, that the 
time had come to expend some of the crisp hun- 
dred rouble notes hidden in my garments. I would get 
a little good out of some of my useless money! I would 
bribe the turnkey to report to me everything occurring 
in Hermione’s cell! I would keep Durand with me to in- 
terpret to the jailer; and I could make a great hue and 
cry later. They all knew that. How to get rid of the old 
sergeant? A fifty-rouble note would stop his tongue, 
at all events; for he would not betray his Amerikansky 
barin! So, my plans all made, I awaited the arrival of 
Durand; for the reveille cannon had ushered in “my 
last day” at the fortress as a prisoner — and the day of 
Hermione’s doom! Breakfast was no sooner served 
than a sergeant of the guard ushered in Madame Du- 
rand, who had a pass from the Ministry of the Interior to 
see me alone. I was regarded as a boarder who had 
“given notice” of a change of hotels. Happy man! I 


304 


FOR HER LIFE. 


told the old sergeant, who was already on duty, to leave 
me for a time. I hinted that I would remember his serv- 
ices, as I would be relieved at sundown. He grinned 
and departed. More roubles in the air! The faithful 
woman was now full of tidings! I told her of my ability 
to send letters in to Hermione. Her eyes then sparkled. 
I called the jailer by knocking gently on my inside door. 
When he entered, I then walked to the other end of the 
room. I had been warned! Durand and the man ex- 
changed a few words. They were the highest brief coun- 
tersigns of their mysterious order. Durand said to me, 
as she came to my corner, “Write Madame now a few 
words! I want to send her in some letters now!” My 
pencil flew along. I briefly told “my prisoner” that the 
woman would remain till she wished otherwise. I 
wrapped a bank note around Durand’s letters. Not a 
moment must be lost! Any interruption was possible 
there! And all traces must be destroyed! The jailer 
quickly disappeared and soon returned. I hastily told 
my Nihilist helper how deeply Major Trepoff was at- 
tached to Hermione, but that he was not even yet aware 
of her real character or that of herself. I described my 
own fears that General Haxo would visit Hermione 
after the verdict and before her sentence. “You know 
the limits of foul play — of his villainy!” I warned her. 

‘ Alas! only too well! And we must baffle him! He must 
vet think he is safe! But he must not see me,” cried 
Durand. “It would ruin you!” What should we do! 
If enraged, or startled, he may change his plan! A sum- 
mary execution would be his vengeance! The jailer re- 
turned with a scrap for Durand, covered with strange 
characters and mixed figures of a quaint order. A few 
words to me, also, proved her gratitude. 

“Thanks! Keep Trepofl: watching over me. Let Du- 
rand wait near me as long as she can — to the last mo- 
ment, the very last! Don’t fail in this. Hermione.” 

“Now,” said I to the seamstress, “tell me of the house- 
hold!” She reported the status. All was quiet. “Made- 
leine” was better; that was all she knew. The Major 


FOR HER LIFE. 


305 


himself now sent in word lie would be earlv on the field, 
as the verdict would be rendered at ten. 'This was the 
turning point. “What was the secret of the vile French 
woman’s death?” I eagerly demanded, as I gazed at the 
woman who knew. The brave Durand calmly told the 
whole story. You should know! She was your foe 
as well as ours! It was splendidly done. The Central 
Section decided to execute her at the very moment nec- 
essary to prevent further damage to the interests of 
Madame Hermione! I was at the secret meeting. We 
did not wish to kill her before we had exhausted every 
chance of tracing the placing of those documents in the 
jewel box! But, her lying evidence was reported at once. 
The sleigh she took to the fortress was then followed. 
She had taken a common isvotschik, so as to prevent any 
suspicion, on her visit to the locksmith. He is really a 
cunning rogue, and he demanded more money of her. 
She left him the key, so as to have it safe in her absence, 
and also to quiet him. She paid him some little hush 
money, and promised more. While she was being cross- 
examined, our nearest people had a full report of the 
foul, lying testimony she gave ! A sleigh was dispatched 
to our agents to act at once. I gave the word myself!” 
she proudly said, as I started. “They had already en- 
gaged the poor, stupid driver in a bout of friendly drink- 
ing, ‘always in order,’ and soon had him snugly sleeping 
in one of the low vodlci shops in that deserted quarter 
around the fortress. They had disposed of him very 
skillfully! Decent people are afraid to live over there, 
and he could easily be lost there a week. When he was 
jolly enough, they had bought his horse and sleigh for 
a good cash sum. Fie had already freely indulged, for 
the sly ‘de l’Orme’ did not want any one to trace her path 
by him, and had told him to wait outside the fort. She 
paid royally! He was hungry and tired of waiting for 
her. She had paid in advance. When she came out, she 
looked only for the right sleigh. It was already quite 
dark, but the number 371 on the lanterns was enough. 
It was so dark that she could not see the driver’s face. 
She wrapped the furs around her, and off they started, 
with a new driver. She gave the home direction. Her 
20 


306 


FOR HER LIFE. 


work was done. One of our best men was stationed half- 
way across the bridge. He knew the number of the 
sleigh. We had also another hidden at the bridge head. 
He was to act later in another way, in case anything 
should have prevented the deed in ‘crossing over the 
bridge!’ Oh! we made sure!” she smiled. “This man 
had orders to stab her, if necessary, and escape then on 
the line of wood boats which always lie by hundreds 
moored along the bank. Throwing his knife in the river, 
he could never be caught among the boatmen; for they 
all sympathize with the pursued! It was unnecessary,” 
resumed Durand, “for the determined man sprang 
quickly in the sleigh when midway over the bridge! It 
was fully dark, and the snow was blinding the doomed 
woman! The oiled noose was cast over her neck, and, 
with a jerk, pulled tightly home! The bridge was almost 
deserted! The ‘executioner’ steadied her till the alley at 
the head was reached! Then she was already dead and 
frozen stiff! They soon disappeared in different ways. 
Abandoning all, they were soon in hiding on the wood 
boats, and are now perfectly safe, scores of miles away! 
She never uttered a single sound! We had a full report 
at our Central Section, for the truth is told to us, — and 
those who helped them away, told the story!” Durand 
paused. I was shivering at her coolness. “And the 
poor devil of a driver?” I queried. “Will he not aid the 
police to trace these men?” “Don’t worry about him!” 
said Durand, coolly. “As for tracing them — oh! no!” 
coolly replied the quiet-faced woman. “He is undoubt- 
edly now drinking up his money, or feasting on a part of 
it! When he finally turns up, in a day or so, for a new 
card (as he has to surrender the old 371, and get an- 
other, on his real papers), he will be arrested and locked 
up two or three weeks. He knows nothing whatever yet 
of any crime!” “Will he suffer?” said I, with some in- 
terest for the stupid driver, so innocent of wrong-doing. 
“Not at all!” was the quiet response. “He can prove by 
a dozen that he never left the drinking places till long 
after her death! His transaction was clear and honest!” 
“Who wrote the paper found on her breast?” was my 
last question. “I did!” replied Durand very composed- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


307 


ly. “It was a satisfaction to me. It was my duty to do 
that, and also to verify her death ! I went up to "the po- 
lice morgue, and saw her lying there very quiet, in her 
coffin, last night. I hope no human being will shed a 
tear! She deserves none! Her very last victim has been 
betrayed! She will trouble us no more! And, all her 
kind should meet the same blinding flash of lightning 
retribution ! 

“I wish that you would ask Major Trepofif to let me 
read all the papers we found in her trunk,” said Du- 
rand. “Being a French woman, I might be of some lit- 
tle use. I know all the ways of the police spies. He will 
not refuse to trust me, if you ask him. I can trace out 
her past career; and it may save other innocent lives!” 
“I will do it,” said I; “for I want to tie this Haxo up in 
this treachery to Hermione! I would like to see that 
fellow baffled for once — the tiger!” 

Trepofif was now soon expected. I had one afifair to 
arrange. “Call that jailer,” said I. “I wish you to ar- 
range signals with him so that if General Haxo or any of 
his kind attempt to visit Hermione to-day, he will let me 
know at once. The Commander alone has the right. 
I will have Major Trepofif leave his own man here, so 
I can notify the Major also if he is in the fortress! They 
will not dare to remove her to a condemned cell till the 
sentence is approved by the Privy Council; and that 
will be held back as long as possible!” The jailer was 
called, and received my wishes and, another bill. “She is 
safe, now, till after her sentence is approved ; but then, — 
Ah! it is maddening!” said the devoted French woman, 
continuing. “If you knew what I know! Our poor 
people leave their last true stories written in our secret 
characters in all their cells. Whitewashing, scraping, 
painting, and all tricks are resorted to; but we finally get 
at the main facts!” said Durand. “Even accident aids us, 
and the great number of cases makes these people care- 
less.” “Have you secret friends everywhere — in these 
prisons and stations?” I asked, in a vague wonder. 
There seemed to be wheels within wheels in Russia! 
“We have comrades scattered from here to Siberia, and 
even at the penal island of Saghalien. We have friends 


3Q8 


FOR HER LIFE. 


in Odessa and Archangel. We have also circles in 
Vienna, Paris, Berlin, Berne, London, New York, Chi- 
cago, and San Francisco,” said the calm woman, with a 
flush of pride. “You do a large business!” I smiled. 
“You must know that!” she proudly cried. “Did we not 
entrap that murderous devil, Colonel Sudeikin, here in 
the very heart of the guarded city. After forcing out 
of him all the government secrets, he was then cut to 
pieces within hearing of his own gend’armes, and by 
one of his own spies; for he, the betrayer, was betrayed! 
We had bought the man over! Money and craft are our 
only useful weapons, till despair drives us to assassina- 
tion! We do not court terrorism! Yes! we have our 
loyal friends everywhere,” she affirmed, with a growing 
pride. “Why was the placard pinned on that dead wo- 
man’s breast?” I then asked. She mused a moment, and 
then answered: “Firstly— to prevent a great many poor 
devils from being needlessly arrested, and principally, to 
terrorize the police — to show them we too, can strike, as 
we will, when we will! Why, not a single week passes 
that the imperial family do not receive Nihilist letters at 
the palace; some are pinned on the hangings, some found 
in the very cradles of the imperial children — all these 
things are done now only to show the great Czar that we 
could reach him, past all his spies, police, and guards! 
Our sworn companions are everywhere! We could 
strike terrible blows often! It is not our policy! The 
Russian government crushes and brutalizes a whole 
class of subjects at once, by injudicious laws. We but 
strike a single hated individual, and only then after many 
repeated warnings! No! we do not love bloodshed. 
We are human and humane! Our society has its ‘prop- 
agandists,’ its ‘moderates,’ and its extreme ‘terrorists.’ 
We regard bur members ‘on duty’ as engaged in a holy 
war! — soldiers of the new faith! Our assignments for all 
desperate work, where an individual is to be ‘removed,’ 
are usually made by lot. For special service (not of a 
bloody nature), our members can be assigned according 
to their fitness and much of our work demands talent of 
a high order!” This gloomy colloquy was cut short by 
the arrival of Major Trepoff. He greeted me gayly, and 


FOR HER LIFE. 


309 


told me I would be finally relieved at “tattoo.” Hand- 
ing me several letters, he prepared to attend the Court, 
which was about to assemble. The Major hastily re- 
ported the progress of the day. “I have examined the 
papers of the governess. We have the most amply 
damning evidence of her spy connection with the police. 
We found letters received by her in Russian, and also 
copies of the answers written by her. Her money ac- 
counts and lists of persons she has watched and re- 
ported! This proves her perjury! We also found many 
documents similar to those in the jewel box, on the 
same paper, and of the same imprint, and old date.” I 
started up now. “Major Trepoff!” I cried. “Will you 
let this woman examine them? She has seen the gov- 
erness with Russians around the ‘Bon Marche’ and other 
places in Paris!” said I. “The part of that woman might 
be useful to us now!” “Most certainly!” replied he. 
“I will go now to the Court and return when Hermione 
does.” He departed. I quickly called the jailer in. He 
agreed to put Durand out of sight at once, in a spare 
cell, if General Haxo came, for he might take a fancy to 
inspect my cell and try to involve me in some of his in- 
triguing talk. We all listened in silence as the guard 
conveyed our fair prisoner to the now assembled Court. 
It was for the formal announcement of the verdict! It 
was only half an hour, till Trepoff returned. His face 
was very solemn, as he despondently threw himself down 
in a chair. 

“Guilty on every specification !” was the verdict. “The 
Court was cleared for deliberation,” said he, “and the 
formal sentence will be announced at the afternoon ses- 
sion.” We could guess it! The shadow of death hung 
over us darkly now! There was only heard the sound 
of broken sobs; for the good Durand had buried her 
head in her hands. “I know what their grim sentence 
will be! Death! forthwith!” she said, brokenly. We all 
gazed gloomily at each other, in a helpless agony. Di- 
mitri Trepoff was a picture of despair. And his lover s 
heart was shaken at last! “Look here, Trepoff, said I, 
“you are our mainstay! You must not give way. You 
arc our last hope now! Summon every resource at 


310 


FOR HER LIFE. 


once, or we are lost! You must remain here till sunset, 
or till Haxo leaves; and then try to reach at once the 
Emperor and Empress. Watch every one like a lynx 
now! Be sure that revision of sentence does not come 
back here till we have tried every help! You can at 
least hold them for a little time in check !” He lifted his 
head, and his eyes flashed fire. “You are right!” he 
cried. “I must be a man now — for her sake!” He 
threw up his fine head. It was only the maddest self- 
devotion for him to risk place, name, and honor, in an 
official “duel to the death,” with the secret chief. But, 
for Hermione, he would dare a thousand deaths. 

The Major departed. As he might be away when I 
was discharged, he at once arranged to have the Brigade 
Major provide me with safe transportation. A reliable 
companion would be directed to escort me directly to 
Trepoff’s rooms, where I was to pass a few days in re- 
tirement. Promising to return, he left to confer with his 
friend. 

“There is yet hope! Work! Try every friend!” whis- 
pered Durand. 

In an hour, the jailer softly opened my door. “Quick!” 
said he, to the seamstress. “Here comes General Haxo, 
across the parade! I will place you in a cell next door.” 
I adjured Durand to have him watch secretly and notify 
me of all. She gave him these directions with all the 
power of her secret rank. I waited in all the agony of a 
vain suspense. Major Trepoff returned at last, and 
joined me quickly; and the friendly jailer was instantly 
despatched by him to reconnoiter. General Haxo had 
entered Hermione’s cell. What was his real design? 
We waited with wildly beating pulses. It was not long 
till the warder returned, and a few whispered words to 
the Major caused him to spring up. “Grahame!” said 
he, “I am going at all risks into her cell! I can not bear 
this!” His hand was on the door. “My poor darling!” 
he groaned. “For God’s sake! be prudent, Dimitri!” I 
prayed, as he left. He nodded; but his eyes flashed — 
for he was love’s champion. “I will send you a note 
by the jailer. You can write me by him. I shall stay 
with her till her sentence is pronounced. I have the 


FOR HER LIFE. 


311 


right!” said he, as he walked down the hall. It was 
into the lion’s den! I excitedly paced my cell in a sad 
unrest. It was now a dread game of chess for a human 
life. The stake was that fair woman’s love. I felt that I 
had done all I could, at the prison, and dreamed of some 
vain effort in the city. Alas! I was powerless, a stranger, 
and suspected. My friend would now have to watch 
and prevent the last foul play! I had reminded Trepoff 
that his friend the Brigade Major, after her sentence, 
could be warned to make frequent inspections, on behalf 
of General Davidoff. After the sentence, poor victim, 
she would be known only by a number; for her very 
name and identity would be swallowed up on condemna- 
tion. Property, rank, and all personal rights were all 
effaced by a verified sentence. The brutal execution 
would follow swiftly on the heels of the return of the 
revision, and its confirmation by the Privy Council seal. 
For our defenseless one would be at the call of the com- 
mon hangman! He could strangle her in that dark cell! 
I hungered for news. The jailer opened my door at 
last. He gave me a note. It was the Major’s report; 
and my hands trembled, as I tore it open. 

Haxo has offered her a mitigation of her sentence if 
she will confess. She bravely declares she knows noth- 
ing. I have at last shown him my special order. He 
smiled grimly, and we are now in open opposition. He 
goes directly to the Emperor. I will confer with Tolstoi, 
and then face him, even before the Czar himself. Her- 
mione is hopelessly resigned. He has gone. I shall take 
Count Mouravieff’s advice. It is the last throw of the 
dice! God help us all! Trepoff. 

Soon I was joined by Durand, who had eagerly 
awaited the departure of General Haxo. All was now 
hazarded on the forlorn hope of awaking the clemency 
of the Emperor, or the kind Empress. I could do noth- 
ing more at the prison, and so, I sadly prepared all my 
little belongings for departure; for I might be of some 
use at the city. Here, alas, none! The faithful seam- 
stress would stay for the news of the sentence, and then 


312 


FOR HER LIFE. 


return; and she might be the last to see our ill-fated 
darling. Trepoff came back in a fever of excitement in 
an hour. He told me he had faced General Haxo flatly, 
on the question of his mean arts and unduly prejudicing 
influence; and then told him, before the prisoner, of his 
own official rights. The General was obliged to obey the 
order of Count Tolstoi. Trepoff, resolute and fearless, 
then plainly informed the chief he would personally re- 
port to the Minister of the Interior every occurrence, 
and denounce his bloodthirstiness. General Haxo dared 
not attack the Major openly, and so his official bitterness 
could only extend to pushing the sentence. “I shall do 
my duty!” he growled, in a return defiance. 

The Major went to the city to gain news of the in- 
quest and to report our progress. To summon every 
friend of his clan to beg the poor boon of a woman’s 
life, for the very sake of womanhood itself! 

When he was gone, I had the jailer called in; for I was 
now desperate, and at bay! A thousand roubles pro- 
cured me the last chance of going to Hermione’s cell. 
The sly old warder posted the sergeant in the corridor 
below, to warn us of any sudden arrival. I was soon by 
her side in her cell of death. Hermione was sitting 
there, gazing out of the one narrow cell window when 
I entered. It was only a moment that we dared to give 
way to our feelings. I rapidly told her all the details of 
the inside workings of the case. I implored her be of 
good cheer, and then promised that for not one instant 
would we relax our efforts till all means of respite had 
been tried to the last. Prayer, love, — all! I did not dare 
remain in this dim retreat too long. She smiled sadly as 
she promised to write me a letter with her last directions, 
in case of the very worst. This Major Trepoff would 
bring to me. “For, you have been a brother of the heart 
to me,” she cried, as I kissed her trembling hands. I 
pledged her I would not give a moment to any other 
duty than her reprieve, and that our whole circle would 
now continue their prayers up to the very last instant. 
Every plan was fully explained. She now knew all the 
slender threads of hope, yet unbroken. The warder 
was growing visibly nervous as he guarded the door. I 


EOR HER LIRE. 


m 


feared to linger there longer lest I might ruin all! And 
yet, for myself I cared not. I would not be her ruin by 
my rashness! 

“Hermione!” I sadly said, as I unwillingly prepared 
to go. “You will owe all to Dimitri Trepofif alone, if you 
are saved. You must know now that he has a claim on 
you forever! And, may God speed him now!” She 
smiled through her tears, saying tenderly, “He will not 
be forgotten in time or in eternity. In another time, 
in another land, I would have given him a life for a life !’’ 
Her bosom rose and fell in a storm of sobs. “But, I am 
only a devoted woman, and doomed to be a sacrifice! 
There is but one way out of my dark prison — it leads 
but to the grave!” she faltered, with a pale face. “Trep- 
off yet may claim the sweet forfeit of your life and your 
loving heart — the only return you can make him!” said 
I, trying to hold to the frail straws of hope. She sadly 
moved her head in negation. She did not deceive her- 
self. “My good friend, — my own last loyal friend, — you 
must now go! Do not think too unkindly of me. I 
have only done my work, allotted by fate, in life! This 
last perilous quest was forced on me! Never forget that 
I go to my grave thinking fondly of you and yours!” 
A sound was heard in the corridors below. She sprang 
up, pale and trembling. Clasping my arms, she quickly 
said, “Leave me now! We may be betrayed! Do write 
to me a last word by Dimitri. It will give me strength ! 
I ask you not to leave the city, if you can, till my poor 
life is finished. You will then know all at the very last. 
I am woman enough yet to covet your good opinion.” 
Her voice was faltering low in sadness. I dared not 
linger. She threw her arms around me as I held her 
defenseless head upon my breast. It was the supreme 
moment; for the steps of our humble friend were ap- 
proaching now! From my protecting arms, she slowly 
receded with her wonderful eyes beaming on me, in a 
last fond adieu. “May God be with you! Go now!” I 
stood irresolute; and the jailer forced me away. I 
turned at the door for a last glance. She had buried her 
face in her hands, with bitter, blinding tears. She saw 
not my departure. I had to the very last tried to save 


314 


FOR HER LIFE. 


her from the felon’s death. And now, stumbling along 
blindly, I was soon in my cell again. It was several 
hours later when Dimitri Trepoff returned. The inquest 
was at last over. General Michael had seen the obse- 
quies of the dead governess properly carried out. The 
public prosecutor suppressed all the testimony so dam- 
aging to the police as to the label on her breast. General 
Zastrow gave this fact to him as indicating their settled 
prejudice. Colonel Luboff watched all acutely on be- 
half of the “secret office.” Nothing whatever was done 
to bring out the real character of the deceased, as a 
“moucharde.” And, even General Zastrow dared not 
protest! Trepoff now informed me that coachman “3 71” 
had been, however, apprehended, and was slowly sober- 
ing off. His arrest occurred on his reporting for a new 
ticket as droschky driver. He was a stupid and inno- 
cent oaf! Vigorously had he protested his innocence — 
that he simply sold the horse and sleigh to two unknown 
men who looked like honest traders, and said .they 
wanted to take a business trip into the outlying villages. 
It seemed to be a very straight story after all. It was, 
evidently, not the government policy to delve too deep 
in this matter. And, a woman’s life trembled now in the 
balance! A doomed woman! General Michael had been 
ordered to turn all the spy’s effects over immediately to 
the French Legation, whither her official papers and 
valuables had been sent already. Some powerful influ- 
ence was shielding the dead governess! And so, the 
busy, devilish traitress dropped forever out of the minds 
of men, and slept in the silence of death on the banks 
of the Neva, near the graves of those victims whom she 
had betrayed, for ill-gotten “pieces of silver!” New 
spies would nimbly serve the police officials, and, per- 
haps, new victims be sent to an untimely grave. The 
way of a hard, hard world ! She was now amenable only 
before the last awful Court. Her crimes rested lightly 
upon her head. Her mad love for Serge had, perhaps, 
forced her to take these final risks in an awful revenge. 
Dusky shadows now gathered over battlement and wall. 
Cold blasts shrieked and whistled around me. A dark 
day for a dark deed! The hour of the judgment came, 


FOR HER LIFE. 


315 


and, past my door, harshly tramped along the armed 
escort bearing rash, ill-starred Hermione to hear her 
doom ! I was forced to linger in impotent sympathy, for 
the sake of our flickering hopes. Trepoff, with a mute 
agony written on his brow, went out. A few minutes 
only passed till he was back, a picture of despair, and 
the gloomy train marched in with the victim. It was 
all over! The law had spoken! Dimitri’s gloomy words 
were few. “Death was the sentence; and the papers 
were ordered made ready for instant approval.” All 
was over! And we were trembling there helpless! The 
Brigade Major was, however, left on a secret agreement 
to watch over Hermione till Trepoff had seen the Em- 
peror. He promised that he would come and deliver me 
at “tattoo.” Already, the loyal Major had placed a se- 
lected guard over the cell where Hermione was now 
alone. Dimitri directed the seamstress to reconduct the 
other woman, who must now finally take leave of Hermi- 
one, back to the city. He bade them both await his di- 
rections, at his house, so as to have one or the other of 
them ready for service. And where could we turn, to 
raise up friends now? He then went to Hermione’s 
cell of judgment. The warder brought the frightened 
woman who had been the prisoner’s companion into my 
cell, then; and these two last faithful “secret compan- 
ions of the order” left me, as I promised to see them at 
Dimitri’s house. So, one by one, the little band around 
Hermione dwindled away! Major Trepoff returned in 
an hour, and I saw at once that his eyes were clouded. 
I did not try to pierce his last new griefs, or to learn the 
details of her feelings. I could divine all this. It had 
been a good-bye, — perhaps an eternal one! “I will not 
lose a second’s time! Action now! I must save her!” 
was all his explanation. He was in an exaltation which 
made him capable of anything. He agreed to try and 
meet me at his house after I had visited the Zastrows. 
I was to be kept in the background as far as possible. 
Nothing must be left to arouse any further resentment 
of the chief. All depended upon the imperial clemency, 
and a false step would ruin all. My friend went out of 
the gloomy fortress. I was now ready for my departure 


FOR HER UEB. 


216 

from prison. Dinner was a mere mockery to me; for, as 
the night hours dragged on, my deliverance from shame 
was at hand. I had prepared a last little note to Her- 
mione, — a strong appeal to her own brave womanhood, 
— to wait till the very summons of death before any rash 
deed. I feared her wounded pride and the desperation 
of despair. I sent it in for fear of some interruption. 
The jailer brought me her reply: 

“I will keep my word to you. I am true in life and 
death, with every fond blessing to the dear ladies, to 
Dimitri, and to you. With loving prayers for your inno- 
cent dear ones. It will be only at the last I would escape 
the final shame. Trust me! Your Hermione.” 

I had already warned the jailer, through Durand, that 
he must see me at every risk, if even at the gates, when 
all was over. I promised I would richly reward him for 
the slightest effective service to the doomed woman. 
Trepoff was to be instantly informed of any last wish or 
unexpected event, and all papers for me were to be given 
to him. I thanked God for the power, the latent power, 
of the gold all men covet; for, even in a prison, it has a 
magic of its own ! This prospective reward was a gauge 
of his utmost efforts. The time of my enlargement was 
at hand, and I chafed to go. Soon my luggage was re- 
moved, by direction of the kindly adjutant. I waited for 
the signal which was to release me, counting the min- 
utes. At the very first roll of “tattoo; ” the Brigade 
Major threw open my cell door. I joined him, and then, 
with a last lingering fond look down the corridor to 
where Hermione was sitting alone, in the shadow of 
death, I walked sadly out of those accursed prison doors, 
past the half-wild sentinels, and stood in the welcome 
biting night air — a free man at last! It all seemed to 
have been a horrid dream; for I was free — free at last! 
Glancing up at the row of gloomy casemates, I saw the 
light still glimmering in her cell. With a last prayer on 
my lips for her, I jumped into the sleigh. The driver 
held back his wild horses. The adjutants kind invitation 
to his quarters was quickly refused. I was soon speed- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


317 


ing away over the long bridge where the spy had died 
in silence. I shuddered as I passed the scene of her 
death. A trusty sergeant, well armed, was seated by my 
side. I soon re-entered Zastrow’s house. I was clasped 
in my forgiving sister Justine’s arms once more! And 
there were no words wasted in vain regret of the past. 
General Michael had prepared her for my return with 
great delicacy. No one else appeared. I directed my 
return to be announced to my own beloved Madeleine 
for the next morning. She was now able to see me, and 
had been made aware of the cloud of trouble which 
menaced the future of our whole circle. The physician 
now insisted on her quiet and our speedy departure. 
Alas! there was but one sad event to detain me — the 
gloomy certainty of Hermione’s fate. I could not leave 
her to perish! With a few words to explain my duties, 
I left the dear child, who was now anxious to see me 
forgiven. Dashing away, I was soon at TrepofFs home, 
and met the joyous Serge, who received me with open 
arms, as out of the house of bondage. Dimitri was even 
now with the Komaroffs and Count Mouravieff, confer- 
ring on the appeal to the Emperor. The last forlorn 
hope! Worn out and exhausted, I slept a dreamless 
sleep in the comfortable rooms allotted me. For the 
hand of fate seemed to be against us all! As I closed 
my eyes, I fondly thought of the poor, lonely, and de- 
voted Hermione, held within the stony grip of those 
massive walls, whose every echo only tells of broken 
hearts — where death reigns “in the name of the Czar!” 





































' 








BOOK III— LED BY LOVE. 


CHAPTER XI. 

AT TSARSKOE ZELOE — GENERAL HAXO TRAPPED — 
VERA’S VICTORY — A LIFE FOR A LIFE. 

Morning in St. Petersburg! Dark and gloomy with- 
out; within, the luxury of Trepoff’s rooms defied the 
Ice King, and, worn out, I slept oblivious to my changed 
conditions. No booming gun called me, but Dimitri’s 
own friendly hand roused me early; and then I realized 
that I was among friends, thank heaven, once more. 

“Wake up, my prisoner!” was his cheery salutation. 
“Here! Look over these documents as soon as you can 
throw on your gown. I will send the woman in to you. 
I must breakfast now, and try to catch the nine o’clock 
train to Tsarskoe Zeloe Palace. The ordeal will come 
on there! The Emperor is there! General Haxo went 
down last night!” Dimitri threw over to me the bundle 
of documents found in M’lle Dauvray’s trunk. My cof- 
fee was soon served, and then Madame Durand entered. 
I cut short all her kindly congratulations on my en- 
largement as I handed to her the bundle of papers, say- 
ing, “Lose not a moment! Examine each one of these, 
as if your life depended on it! You will surely know the 
meaning of many, which are only blind words to our 
friends.” She seated herself at the anteroom window, 
and I rapidly dressed. I disposed of my coffee and 
awaited Durand’s report. She was heard in frequent 
exclamations of surprise. In twenty minutes, the Major 
now entered. He was in his full gala uniform, and 
ready to meet his sovereign to battle for innocence 
against deadly craft! “General Michael will be here 
soon. We are to take the nine o’clock train, and the 
locksmith, too, goes with us, in charge of my old or- 


820 


FOR HER LIFE. 


derly. Count Mouravieff has kindly promised me to 
come down on the train, too, as soon as the morning 
council is over. He will also personally keep the con- 
firmed sentence of Hermione, without the seal, in his 
possession, until the very last positive word from the 
Emperor himself. So, now, there can be no treachery!” 
While we conferred, the woman had finished examining 
all the papers. She called me. In a few words, she ex- 
plained that all the Nihilistic documents were exactly 
similar, in date and time, to those found in the jewel box. 
A part of the same plant! They were all old matters, 
which had evidently been in police hands before. Prob- 
ably supplied to the spy by the police, and the whole 
stock had once formed part of some general seizure. It 
was a clumsy enough dodge! In a land where the pos- 
session of terrorist papers meant death, almost anything 
was enough, with a defenseless prisoner, to bring about 
a fatal sentence from a too-complaisant court. I looked 
at them. They were seemingly identical with the printed 
matters used at the trial. Several account books and 
records also conclusively proved the past receipt of large 
sums by the dead spy from police headquarters; others 
showed that she had received moneys from the well- 
known Russian agents in Paris. Her trade was but too 
self-evident! In none of the papers found in Hermi- 
one’s box, did her supposed name directly appear. They 
evidently knew not her real name; and, therefore, feared 
to use any alias, not knowing what foreign credentials 
she might later produce on her trial. And so, even they 
were not too sure of their victim ! A few private letters 
proved that the dead spy had really possessed a heart 
once, and some loving friends of a personal nature. Her 
own romance was all hidden under the weight of by- 
gone years; for the friends of her youth, if any still lived, 
would vainly wait for her return from the banks of the 
Neva. In a short time, Dimitri, who now understood 
all, folded them up, and a special mark was placed on 
them. “I am ready,” he said, as if he was going into 
action. We now awaited General Zastrow’s arrival. 
Serge was unable to go down to the palace; for the run 
of an hour by train and all the tedious official formality 


FOR HER LIFE. 


321 


might be entirely too much for his yet green wound. 
He had, however, authorized the Major to use his name 
in complete confirmation of the history, and, volun- 
teered a deposition. We made all ready, and soon a 
sleigh dashed up. General Zastrow sent in for Trepoff. 

I went out to bid them godspeed, and was strangely 
cheered by the projected face to face interview. 

General Michael was now in calm mental balance, and 
very anxious to close the whole family matter, and so 
facilitate my early departure. A brief note from my sis- 
ter told me I was expected at breakfast. While the head 
of the family was away, I well knew that tender-hearted 
Barbe Zastrow would extend the olive branch. I learned 
that Vera, the impulsive little Princess, supported by 
Madame Komaroff and the Countess Mouravieff, would 
write also in an appeal to the merciful and gracious Em- 
press while the two gentlemen were with the Czar. I 
obtained from Trepoff an official card to the Brigade 
Major, asking him to let Madame Durand see the 
warder, and find out what the lonely imprisoned Her- 
mione might need. If no accident happened to prevent, 
then, Durand was to let her knew we were all at work. 
We would have report of her safety also. Alas! it was 
all that we could do. Serge and I waved a “Good-bye” 
as the three splendid black Orloff trotters dashed away, 
with a- jingle of bells. They were now off to meet their 
official foe. Tsarskoe Zeloe is a magnificent pile of build- 
ings, embowered in superb gardens, and a favorite pal- 
ace of the Russian Czars. Not as gloomy as the “Winter 
Palace,” though less rich; not as storied as “Peterhoff,” 
with all its faded glories and haunted memories of beau- 
ties long forgotten, — it is still beloved by all; for there 
is hanging over it no dark record of murder and treason, 
no tragedy of the past throws a gloomy shadow over the 
suspicious, care-haunted ruler of Russia, while in its 
guarded walls. The railway from the metropolis is 
under the special charge of the secret police. Nothing 
is permitted to be on the line when royalty travels. The 
Czar’s favorite retreat is a bower of witching loveliness. 
The score of miles between it and the city are beautiful 
suburbs of the great new capital— a favorite resort of 
21 


322 


FOR HER LIFE. 


the trusted aristocracy. I directed Durand to await my 
orders, and then leave for the fortress, when I went to the 
Admiralty quai. So, Serge and I were free to count 
these hours of the all-important day. Serge Zastrow 
was overjoyed at my release. He had not as yet been 
officially called to account for the slaying of General 
Radzivill. Cards by the dozens had been left, but the 
dead man was not referred to. Evidently, some restrain- 
ing influence had quieted general gossip. I well knew 
Haxo would cover the awkward break in his game. This 
was much aided by the fact that Radzivill, by birth, was 
a Pole; the higher Russians always treating them with 
hauteur, dislike, and the victor’s cold disdain of a con- 
quered nation. The few Polish nobles adhering to the 
Russian crown were secretly despised, for all knew that 
the great princely Polish families were almost exter- 
minated when bloody Mouravieff said, “There are no 
more Poles,” after the last revolution. Spy and police 
agent marked down all who were forgotten by the bay- 
onet, and the prisons swallowed them up! 

While we were preparing our mercy-seeking embas- 
sies, in a grand room at Tsarskoe Zeloe, a tall, soldierly 
man sat looking at the morning sun struggling in the 
east with the pale yellow fogs of a Russian winter. 

The long tier of recessed windows commanded a rare 
view down the alleys, where nature sweetly smiles in 
the short but rich northern summer. He was sitting in 
the cabinet of arms. The whole grand apartment is a 
museum of the splendid trophies of tributary or con- 
quered princes of the east. Russia’s onward march is 
pictured there. The panelled ceiling is superbly deco- 
rated in carved work of cunning skill. It is indeed a 
cabinet fit for the Czar of all the Russias. Every wall 
bears great clusters of carefully arranged jeweled Orien- 
tal arms. Saber, scimetar, yataghan, curved kriss, and 
priceless old blades torn from the grasp of the proud 
Asiatics, hang hene, far from their places of origin. 
Matchlock, pistol, and rifle, silent now, are hanging 
there. Shields, coats of mail, and gorgeous trappings 
adorn the recesses. Plumes, feathered tufts, richest furs, 
and scores of captured banners, and pennons, attest the 


FOR HER LIFE. 


323 


wide swath cut by the Circassian saber, and the deadly 
work of the Cossack lance. It is a tribute to the resist- 
less Russian sword. Gold and silver, shimmering pearl, 
and blazing jewels cover these historic weapons. Great 
pale turquoises, amber Oriental topaz, deep rich sap- 
phires, rubies lit with fiery glow, and the rarest flashing 
diamonds, stud and gem stock, gripe and hilt. The 
arms of captured kings hang useless here! The mosaic 
floor recalls the days of old Byzantium; and, even the 
window drapings, from Oriental loom and needle, are a 
king’s ransom. It is the spoil of “Ormuz and the farther 
Ind.” In the middle of the room, a sunken octagonal 
floor is reached by descending marble steps of rare vein 
and exquisite color. A table, with its octagonal top, 
made of one huge slab of precious green malachite, ac- 
cupies the central space. This priceless piece is covered 
by a magnificent tent, supported on eight clusters of 
curiously-inlaid spears and lances. The tent and hang- 
ings, festooned in graceful, arched openings, are Indian 
shawls of exquisite delicacy and the rarest Turkish and 
Persian embroideries. The eye revels in the richness of 
the drowsy East. From the summits of these arched 
draperies, hang the horse-tail ensigns of great Pashas, 
once defeated in bitter wars. A grand jeweled imperial 
ornament surmounts this royal marquee, which rises 
nearly to the lofty ceiling. 

At the center table, sat Alexander Romanoff, the 
mighty ruler of ninety millions: — the heir of the great 
Kings of the East. Genghis and Timour, Tamerlane and 
mighty Rurik, — all the old shadowy war chiefs of the 
Orient, have left their Empire to the Russian Czar, and 
still the hungry Russian eagle spreads his wing. From 
the frozen White Sea, — thousands of miles to Behring 
Straits from the cove of Archangel to Odessa Bay; — 
from Warsaw to Kiachta and Vladivostock, — the great 
domain, founded on conquest and held by the sword, 
stretches out vast and wide. 

One stalwart, bearded colossal blue-eyed soldierly 
man, proud, patriotic, haughty and intensely autocratic, 
rules “by Divine Grace,” a hundred blended nations. 
He lives a stranger to his polyglot people, guarded by 


324 


FOR HER LIFE. 


grovelling gensd’armes and controlled by feeble bureau 
officials. He wields the heaviest sceptre on earth! The 
wonderful life of Russia is natural, not governmental. 
The great land is rich by nature, with the undeveloped 
treasures of a dozen varying grand divisions. It is 
strong only, in that intense unshakable patriotism, which 
binds the hardy Muscovite to serve the White Czar 
blindly. The Russ is ever ready to die for God and the 
Czar, without a murmur. A hundred palaces, a thou- 
sand domains are his; a million of armed men serve the 
Emperor. Yet, the blood-red billet of the fanatic Nihil- 
ist secretly finds its way to his eye. It is pinned on the 
pillow where the uneasy head of the greatest absolute 
despot on earth seeks repose. The thorn lurking under 
the Imperial Rose draws blood! Simple in tastes, averse 
to all splendor, save on great state occasions, devoted 
to his immediate family, Alexander III. pushed out the 
map of Russia to the Persian gulf for that sea outlet 
so ardently longed for by all his subjects. And to his 
son, his pallid dead finger points the way! Constanti- 
nople and the German frontier were always in his mental 
vision, with that long line of the Danube, marked by the 
tombs of so many hundreds of thousands of Russians. 

The hereditary war with the Turk has been the 
plague of Russia. Internal peace, national progress is 
neglected for mere ambition of conquest, laid down in 
the sacred hereditary policy. 

Here, too, are stumbling blocks! Reform has been 
a failure, — emancipation a thankless task. And yet, the 
gradual development of the greatest power on earth goes 
on resistlessly. It was with a gloomy brow the Em- 
peror awaited General Haxo. A full private report the 
evening before had been made by the chief, who urged 
the speedy execution of Hermione “for urgent reasons!” 
His eager desire to cut off pardon was to get her in his 
hands, and then wring from the tortured woman that 
fuller knowledge his spies and crafty underlings could 
not gain. He knew well that, once turned over to the ex- 
ecutioner, the dark walls of the fortress would hide for- 
ever the secret of her last agonies from the outer world. 
The seal of the Privy Council would signify the Czar’s 


FOR HER LIFE. 


326 


“pleasure.” The divine right of kings! Oh! shameless 
lie of abject humanity, groaning under the burden of 
misery, goaded on by a tyrant’s sword! And yet, Eu- 
rope has hugged the darling fiction for a thousand years ! 
Chamberlain and page, body guard of fierce Circassians 
and grenadier sentry, all waited around the peerless 
pavilion. 

The General had begged for an immediate audience. 
He was now all too impatient to surmount Minister 
Tolstoi’s order to Major Trepoff, with the sign manual 
of the Emperor, directing the fair prisoner to be turned 
over to the “secret bureau” for execution. And then 
General Haxo’s time would come at last! The Emperor 
lingered reluctant in thought. It was, after all, a wo- 
man — only another poor mad woman, gifted, dangerous, 
beautiful, rich, self-devoted, in a cause which can only 
claim “ultimate destruction” as a war cry. Of what avail 
her death? He disliked to increase the iron severity of 
police rule. While he lingered lost in doubt and Gen- 
eral Haxo chafed in impatience, the chamberlain an- 
nounced Major Trepoff and General Zastrow on the 
same dismal matter. The ruler of Russia sighed. He 
was now forced to consider! The Emperor’s brow grew 
very stern. He would see all these people face to face. 
General Haxo was admitted first, bowing most coldly to 
the two gentlemen in the anteroom as he passed. 
Michael Zastrow begged the Major to be calm. “Do 
not ruin us all now!” he beseeched. They were ushered 
in to the imperial presence, and the fight for a life began. 
General Haxo had his work all but done. To be simply 
dismissed with the Emperor’s confirming order gave 
him the instant right to demand a sealed warrant from 
the Privy Council. He only feared Count Mouravieff, 
whose wily courtier skill was as renowned as his great 
past services to the crown. “Proceed, gentlemen!” said 
the Emperor. “I have had a full report of this un- 
fortunate business from General Haxo.” The Emperor’s 
face was grave—his voice cold! He was wearied of the 
unwelcome subject. General Zastrow, on behalf of his 
entire family, now tremblingly asked the commutation of 
the sentence of Hermione to mere deportation, as a state 


326 


FOR HER LIFE. 


prisoner, to Siberia, and not as a convict The Emper- 
or’s brow was gloomy. He was silent. Pardon was 
hopeless, Trepoff felt. Mitigation was possible, and then 
further effort could be made afterwards. All must be 
done now, and his blood boiled. “The Court sentence 
seems to clearly point to the most overwhelming evi- 
dence against the woman,” said the Emperor. “Sire!” 
said Trepoff, quietly, “I, too, implore your august 
clemency. I have every reason to believe the case 
against this lady was aggravated by hatred, and the 
work of a police woman spy. The prisoner may have 
been very imprudent as to her illegal passport, but of 
the graver charge, she is innocent! On that alone she 
was condemned to death. The passport matter was a 
mere irregularity! I watched her trial myself, on behalf 
of Count Tolstoi. There has been either a fearful mis- 
take — or worse,” deliberately remarked Trepoff, fixing 
his eye steadily on General Haxo. 

“Can you prove this, Major?” said the Emperor, his 
brow lightening visibly. “I think I can, Sire,” said Di- 
mitri. “I will stake my life upon it!” “General Haxo!” 
suddenly commanded the Emperor. “Give me your 
precis of the proofs in this case. I wish to make no mis- 
take here. This looks grave!” Haxo presented his spe- 
cial notes used in the evening audience. The Emperor 
scanned the lines in silence for a few moments. “Major, 
what have you to say in answer to the findings of the 
Court? General Haxo, read aloud that record!” di- 
rected the Emperor, now quite interested; for the quiet 
champions were glaring at each other, in the bitterest de- 
termination. Haxo calmly read it, closing, “May it 
please your Majesty, this woman is known to be dan- 
gerous. She should be questioned to the utmost as to 
her accomplices. Questioned by the ‘secret bureau’ — 
before her execution!” He was confident. “Now, Major 
Trepoff,” resumed the Emperor, turning his steady eye 
upon the young man. Dimitri calmly said: “Sire, the 
prisoner never saw the papers found in her jewel box 
till they were produced at her trial. They were all placed 
there by a paid agent of the police the night General 
Radzivill was killed and, it was an infamous trick!” Haxo 


FOR HER LIFE. 


327 


glared at Trepoff, who awaited his eager reply. “Sire, 
on behalf of the police, I deny this; and I beg your 
Majesty to order the proofs submitted!” Haxo was 
angered. “Let Major Trepoff prove this!” “There is 
the proof!” calmly said Trepoff, as he laid the two keys, 
tied together by the notary, with his ribboned seal at- 
tached, on the Emperor’s table. The Emperor, in si- 
lence, eyed the opposing champions, and picked up the 
keys, gazing at them intently. General Haxo started. 
“It is a trap!” he cried; and yet, he could not leave the 
imperial presence for any conference with his subordi- 
nates. What had happened? He was puzzled. “What 
is all this?” said the Czar, with a stern glance at Haxo. 
“Sire, one is the real key of the jewel case, in which the 
papers were found by the police — the proof on which 
this poor lady was summarily condemned. The other, is 
the one actually used to open the box and put in the doc- 
uments by a paid police spy. The key was paid for, and 
the incriminating papers furnished by the subordinate 
police.” “Under whose orders?” said the now indignant 
Emperor. “Under the orders of General Haxo, I pre- 
sume,” said the undaunted Major. “General!” the Em- 
peror remarked gravely, “can you deny this? Your 
people may have made — an awful mistake.” “I can, 
your Majesty!” said he, with flashing eyes. “Sire! Let 
me go on and prove it!” firmly continued Trepoff, as the 
Czar signed to him to proceed. General Haxo’s eyes 
were shining in impotent rage. Trepoff then briefly told 
the whole story of the fraud, while Haxo stood amazed. 
He referred to the label on the dead woman’s breast; 
the fact of her lying as to the Russian language; the 
papers from her trunk were then produced by Trepoff, 
and the old age of the documents was referred to. Trep- 
off proved the similarity of the papers in her trunk to the 
ones conveyed into the jewel box. Wagon loads of them 
could be had in the police archives. There was nothing 
to-link Hermione to any knowledge of them. 

General Haxo craved a word here. It was granted. 
“Who took these papers from the dead woman’s trunk?” 
he said, in agitation. “General Zastrow and myself!” re- 
joined Trepoff — “with other witnesses.” 


For her ufF. 


&28 

The Emperor was impatient to conclude. “What fur- 
ther proofs have you that the French woman was a police 
spy?” questioned the Czar, with a moody brow. He was 
now ashamed of his agents. “I have the very man here 
in waiting in the anteroom who made the false key, and 
then, opened the box for your spy,” soberly said the 
Major, now facing the maddened General Haxo. The 
Czar’s brow grew menacing. A last thrust now! Haxo 
was standing, open-eyed and aghast. “All this does not 
connect me with the French woman,” said the police 
General, defiantly, as the Emperor gazed darkly from 
one to the other of the contestants. It was war to the 
hilt! 

“No! General Haxo; but this does!” said the triumph- 
ant Trepoff, respectfully handing the last “order to re- 
port” to the Emperor. “May I ask, Sire, that General 
Haxo will say if he wrote that?” There was murder in 
Haxo’s gleaming eyes now! The Czar signalled to the 
chief, who looked at it. He groaned, and then stood 
mute. It was useless to deny the fact! It was his own 
handwriting! The magic fires of love blazed up in Di- 
mitri’s heart. He was on the verge of conquest. Oh, 
God, for the certainty of victory! “Where was this letter 
found, Major?” questioned the Czar. “On the dead spy’s 
person!” was the reply of Trepoff. The Czar looked at 
General Haxo, whose head was bowed. One last des- 
perate ruse — a last shot! He rallied to save himself 
now! “She may have stolen that paper!” he protested. 
“General, she did not steal these!” said Trepoff, as he 
laid the last packet of Haxo’s orders to the dead woman on 
the table. “These were found in her trunk at the Zastrow 
mansion, and we all can prove it!” — and he laid a packet 
on the table before the angered Czar. General Haxo 
was a scorpion surrounded by avenging fire. He dared 
not even raise his eyes to his master’s face. A diversion 
saved him. The chamberlain announced Count Moura- 
vieff, the President of the Privy Council. With evident 
relief, the angry Czar ordered his admittance. Count 
Mouravieff was presented to his sovereign, who greeted 
the great noble with warmth. A glance from the two 
friends told the veteran diplomat that all was going on 


FOR HER LIFE. 


329 


well, so far. The old courtier waited for his chance to 
get in a thrust. “Have you this poor woman’s sen- 
tence before your Council for confirmation?” said the 
Czar to Mouravieff. The old noble bowed gravely. 
“I have, your Majesty; and I am so deeply interested in 
it that I brought it here, as yet unsealed, to crave your 
clemency in this very strange case,” said the Count. 
“Proceed, Nicolas Nicolaeivitch!” ordered the sovereign. 
Mouravieff was not averse to giving the “new school 
factotum” a lesson, on behalf of the old families and no- 
bles. “Sire,” said Mouravieff, “I regret to say that my 
friend Serge Zastrow was provoked into a fatal duel at 
the opera, when escorting this lady, by that renegade 
Pole, General Radzivill. The lady had never seen nor 
spoken to him, and Serge had no quarrel. Lieutenant 
Zastrow will soon marry my kinswoman, Princess Vera 
Komaroff. His own life was fiercely sought by this 
dead duelist, who had craftily killed a fellow nobleman 
once, in the foulest manner. He was a worthless rene- 
gade, and a disgrace to your Majesty’s service. May it 
please your Majesty, General ITaxo was responsible for 
the presence of that man (whom I know was a secret po- 
lice agent under pay) in the imperial box. It was his 
duty sworn also to have prevented that duel. But he 
allowed it to proceed! The wrong man was killed — - 
that is all! Lieutenant Zastrow will crave an audience 
of your Majesty when he recovers, and beg for an offi- 
cial investigation of why this quarrelsome man was thus 
set on him. That disgraceful scandal occurred on the 
very night when this jewel box was opened and these 
fatal documents inserted. Some hidden influence hounds 
that poor woman down to the grave. I venture, as Chief 
of the Privy Council, to' observe that such deeds and 
such methods make the duty of your responsible Council 
very painful. We cannot face the assembly of nobles 
when their oldest families are treated with such vile du- 
plicity. I know,” he concluded, with a glance of scorn at 
General Haxo, “that the hospitality of Michael Zas- 
trow’s house has been dishonored by these petty police 
villainies, Every word of the proofs offered by Major 


330 


FOR HER LIFE. 


Trepoff is true! He has consulted me in every step of 
this matter!” 

General Haxo came for the fatal mandate to give Her- 
mione over to the executioner. He was now trapped 
and caught, at his own low practices. The Czar mused a 
moment, and all eyes were riveted on him as he spoke. 

“General Haxo,” said he, in a stern voice, “you will 
desist after this from the slightest interference in this 
wretched case! It is now out of your hands, forever! 
Count Mouravieff, I charge you with a special and im- 
mediate report in this matter to my private secretary! 
Withhold, by my order, the seal of the Council. The 
sentence of death is indefinitely suspended! Major 
Trepoff,” he continued, “you will continue to have strict 
personal charge of this prisoner, and report at once to 
General Davidoff, that no one shall be allowed to visit 
this prisoner, save on special order of the Privy Council, 
countersigned by Count Tolstoi and noted by you! 
Michael Alexandrovitch !” concluded the autocrat, kind- 
ly, “I am pleased to find that your household is as loyal 
to-day as always of old. I shall consider the matter of 
the final disposition of this imprudent woman at once.” 
A deathly silence reigned in the room where a woman’s 
life had been fought for and not in vain. Alexander 
rose, the four gentlemen retired to the anteroom. With- 
out a word, the defeated and humbled Haxo threw on 
his sable cloak and left, unsaluted by any one. Moura- 
vieff’s eyes twinkled with satisfaction. The kindly man- 
ner of the Czar and his reception of their final reverence 
assured them that Hermione’s life was saved. Trepoff 
was as pale as if he were of the dead, and his hands 
trembled as he grasped Mouravieff’s slender fingers. 
Any other penalty, she had brought on herself in her 
mysterious quest. Still, her life was saved, and shame 
averted ! 

Count Mouravieff directed Major Trepoff to send him 
forthwith all the evidence, and to hold the frightened 
locksmith ready and subject to his personal orders. It 
was a merry party which returned to Petersburg. The 
two ambassadors of mercy were speechlessly grateful to 
the powerful ex-Premier for his gracious help. He had 


FOR HER LIFE. 


331 


been the trump card! Mouravieff was too great a man 
for Haxo to pull down. He dared not try to involve 
him. The old Count pleasantly accepted their thanks, 
and went home pleased; for he had shown the police wolf 
an old fox trick. Triumph shone in Dimitri Trepoff’s 
eyes as he dashed into my room with the news. He was 
off, in mad haste, as quick as his swift sleigh could be 
harnessed, to bear the positive order to the Command- 
ant, taking Hermione at once out of “all police jurisdic- 
tion/’ and safe from any immediate death penalty. As 
a state prisoner, she could not be removed to the con- 
demned cell, and her treatment would be suitable to her 
rank. The joyous Major ordered Madame Durand to 
hasten to the prison and share every moment of Her- 
mione’s captivity. A liberal douceur made the seam- 
stress quite content. Her greater happiness shone in her 
eyes, as she turned to me when Dimitri disappeared. 
The sad child of an untoward destiny smiled on me. 
“Noble man! May God reward him!” was her prayer; 
in which I joined with all my heart and soul. Serge 
Zastrow was a wildly happy man when he heard the 
news. The splendid and spirited conduct of Count 
Mouravieff reassured him. There was no last obstacle 
now to his forthcoming marriage with the lovely Prin- 
cess Vera. On the wild music of the winter wind rose a 
sound of distant bells! Wedding bells they seemed to 
be to the joyous sailor. There was no one’s interests 
to be served by lingering over the fate of the renegade 
Polish nobleman. The Zastrows and Komaroffs were 
now safe from Haxo’s schemes. He dared not again 
incur the just resentment of the great Mouravieff, whose 
brother, the General, ruled over one-half of the great 
Siberian Russia. They were seated on the steps of the 
throne, where Haxo was but a stranger. Merrily rang 
out the sleigh bells, as I sat in the troika, flying down 
the river bank to the Zastrow mansion. I was soon in 
the salon, where the hostess and Justine awaited me. The 
other ladies, Princess Vera, Madame Komaroff, and the 
adroit Countess Mouravieff, were still with the Em- 
press at the Winter Palace. But there was no shadow of 
death around us now! Justine led me to my dear Made- 


332 


FOR HSR LIFE. 


leine’s room, where I found a welcome such as I had 
longed for. Bright and lovely was my cherished invalid, 
and still innocent of all the dangers I had passed 
through. It was a prelude to a happier time. Our lit- 
tle junta was not long in deciding that we would leave 
as soon as possible for Germany, moving on later to 
Paris. A few months of quiet would bury all the gossip, 
and those rumors of the mysterious occurrences which 
had made the time-honored Zastrow mansion the theater 
of an averted tragedy. Daughter of Eve, my curious 
Madeleine essayed to speak of Hermione. “Not a word 
yet, dearest!'’ said I. “When she is out of that gloomy 
prison — when we are far over the frontier — you shall 
know all. And also the sweet woman who is to be my 
wife! But, Hermione must first unseal my lips!” I 
knew that her life was at stake. Happiness was spread- 
ing white wings over our little circle once more. Made- 
leine longed now ardently for the welcome shores of our 
own dear land. I felt my heart bound with pride as I 
thought of the first glimpse of the dear old flag flying on 
Sandy Hook! And I, too, yearned for the quiet streets 
of Philadelphia. It was a pleasant breakfast table that 
day, though General Michael had prudently gone to the 
palace to supplement the ladies’ petition. Madame Barbe 
was radiant with joy. Her husband had given her the 
morning news. Tender and womanly, she joined her 
gentle influence to that of the enthusiastic Vera. She 
urged the powerful circle to save the “lonely unknown.” 
A new lady companion had charge of the pretty daugh- 
ter now. The dead governess was not referred to. Mad- 
ame Zastrow shuddered to think of her graceful girl 
under such treacherous guidance. In the early after- 
noon the “ladies of the merciful quest” returned, radiant 
and thankful. Success was theirs! 

Marie Alexandrovna, Princess Dagmar, Empress of 
all the Russias, received the suitors in her splendid state 
boudoir at the White Palace. The two great social 
queens were graciously welcomed. A smile of kindly 
greeting was awarded the vivacious little Princess Vera, 
whose dark eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. Count 
Mourayieff and Major Trepoff had informed the two 


FOR HER LIFE. 


m 


elder ladies of all the strong points of the case. They 
trusted now to Vera’s enthusiasm and the well-known 
tenderness of the gentle and lovable Empress for the 
young ladies of her Court. Vera anxiously described the 
whole acquaintance with Hermione. The Empress was 
deeply touched when the Princess described the suffer- 
ings of the innocent ladies of our family, and the fearful 
duel forced on Serge Zastrow. In burning words, her 
scorn of the cowardly plot to take Hermione’s life was 
imparted to the Empress. “Methods used by the police 
to drag down victims by such treachery were unworthy 
of the Russian name,” urged Vera, as she unfolded, bit 
by bit, the whole dastardly plan to forfeit Hermione’s 
womanhood. “But, what can I do, my dear child?” 
gently said the Czarina. “Your Majesty, all the gentle- 
men of our family, with the dear friendly Count Moura- 
vieff, have gone to Tsarskoe Zeloe to pray that her life 
may be spared!* We beg your Majesty to personally ask 
the gracious Emperor to save her from the scaffold; for 
she is a helpless woman, and her greatest crime only 
imprudence — mere folly!” The girl’s pleading voice 
touched the sympathetic sovereign. Madame Komaroff 
ventured also to dwell upon the serious embarrassment 
of Governor General Komaroff in Poland if the death of 
such a renegade and doubtful character as Radzivill was 
in any way avenged on a woman, however imprudent. 
The government could not face such a public scandal, 
nor attempt to justify a clearly murderous quarreler, in 
directly seeking Serge Zastrow’s life. Radzivill was far 
too well known. Countess Mouravieff also assured the 
Empress that her husband approved of every plea made, 
and that he had personally joined in the joint interces- 
sion. The insolence of the unscrupulous chief, in mak- 
ing the time-honored Zastrow family mansion the scene 
of such a low villainous deed, made her indignant, as she 
bravely declared that General Iiaxo had not only per- 
sonally robbed Hermione through his selected spy, but 
had also set on Radzivill to kill Serge Zastrow to re- 
venge an honest woman’s repulse. “Why kill Serge 
Zastrow?” asked the simple-hearted Empress. “Because 
the ablest agent of the General, that fearful French wo- 


334 


FOR HER LIFE. 


man, loved Serge, and desired to revenge herself on 
him. Haxo only wanted to trap ‘our unknown visitor/ 
for the darkest reasons. In return for the final ruin of 
'Hermione, he had placed Radzivill in the hands of the 
revengeful woman, as a co-operating secret agent; and 
to skillfully murder Zastrow was the Dauvray’s ven- 
geance!” The Empress’ bright eyes kindled. “And you 
are so deeply interested in Serge, Princess Vera?” She 
was a smiling woman now, even under a crown’s crush- 
ing weight. The lovely girl blushed crimson as she 
knelt and kissed the Empress’ delicate white hand. Her 
cheeks told the story which failed upon her trembling 
lips. But, she took on a desperate courage, born of 
kindness. “He is to marry me, your Majesty! He 
risked his life to prevent General Haxo’s wicked 
schemes. I ask this one favor, on my knees, for Serge’s 
sake. His cousin led your guards into the Grivitska re- 
doubt. We all will pray to God for your ^Majesty.” “For 
Serge’s sake be it, my sweet child!” said the Empress. 
“Rise! I will do all that I can.” The dark imperial 
eyes were now tenderly fixed on the loving girl. With 
smiling lips the Czarina pronounced these kindly words. 
The two grateful ladies joined in Vera’s murmured 
thanks. It was a happy hour for all these true woman 
hearts, attuned to mercy and goodness by the gracious 
lady of the ice king. “I cannot promise you an entire 
pardon,” said the Empress, gravely. “You do not really 
know yet who this prisoner is ! Some old family or love 
affair may have driven her into her dangerous associa- 
tions. I would like to know her real story,” mused the 
graceful Czarina. “She was in grave error to come in 
our land under a false name, and without legal papers. 
She has brought great sorrow on all your circle, and so 
the innocent suffer ever for the guilty. But I will do 
what I can for you, as a wedding present for your 
Serge!” “Gracious Majesty!” said Countess Mouravieff, 
“Major Trepoff already knows much of her story. Her 
fatal position was forced on her by a mere accident. I 
was on the train. I know she would have gone peace- 
fully away if General Haxo had not driven her to use 
false colors. Arrest and the ruin of all would have fol- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


335 


lowed any exposure there. Our laws are so strict that 
people who are not criminals must use some subter- 
fuge to come here, and leave under assumed names. She 
is clearly guiltless of any other serious crime, and is cer- 
tainly a woman of rank, education, and the highest 
graces.” “But, her attempted suicide!” said the Czarina, 
in doubt. “Every prisoner has a story ready. There is 
a kindness which is mere credulity!” “Your Majesty,” 
quietly said the elder Princess Komaroff, “I am the wife 
of a Governor General. I know the fearful horrors of an 
imprisonment in our forts, for a woman of any station. It 
is hard enough for a robust peasant. I am appealed to, 
often, in Warsaw, and I do all I can to soften the misery 
of women suspects. My husband will tell you that I 
worry him enough,” said she, brightly. “He fears to 
have me even come in his cabinet. The fortress on the 
Neva is said to be a fearful place! Think of such a 
woman in an underground condemned cell! No friend, 
no limit to the last miseries! It is terrible!” cried the 
spirited Princess, her voice quivering. “It breaks my 
heart to see the severity in Poland. This lady preferred 
death to the last horrible tortures, and she too well knew 
why General Haxo was following her up! His cold de- 
sign was to force a confession from her by secret press- 
ure or torture ! Whatever be her private history, she was 
guilty of no overt attempt, and the whole world knows 
the fearful severity of our private police. She preferred 
death to the touch of the common executioner, — or 
worse/’ “I would myself!” said Madame Komaroff, her 
eyes flashing. The angels of mercy were beating white 
wings unseen around the sweet Czarina. “This is very 
true,” murmured the Czarina. “I will think it all over. 
I am not disposed to have this poor woman harassed 
further. But, the Council rules in all matters as to the 
safety of the imperial family. It would be terrible if we 
personally were forced to carry the whole burden.” The 
Empress then bowed her head; but her eyes were moist. 
She had to bear her own part of the national burden of 
sorrow. Her beloved consort’s every-day life was a 
temptation to the assassin! His voyages by rail and car- 
riage exposed him to the knife, pistol, or bomb. Even 


336 


FOR HER LIFE. 


her own royal infants were threatened. On their pillows 
were found pinned notes of fearful significance. Their 
death was even threatened, and also dark menaces to 
steal them away, and bring them up in squalor and mis- 
ery were used to terrorize the imperial mother’s heart! 
A dauphin of France had died once under servants’ 
blows! Why not a Czarovitch? These are the shadows 
of a throne! “The Emperor is kindly and easily moved 
to clemency,” resumed the pensive Czarina. “The Coun- 
cil will certainly insist on the deportation of your mys- 
terious visitor to Siberia. That I cannot prevent; but 
I can greatly mitigate it! She will be ‘only a state pris- 
oner,’— not a convict, — and there is a great radical dif- 
ference in treatment of the ‘deported’ and those con- 
demned to penal servitude. As a ‘state prisoner’ her 
troubles will be merely the social eclipse — and, pardon 
comes in time.” “Your gracious Majesty,” said Madame 
Mouravieff, “the General, my husband’s brother, writes 
me from Irkutsk, there are many hidden oppressions of 
the women sent to Siberia.” A light shown on the Em- 
press’ lovely face. “I thank you, Madame. I have long 
determined to ask the Emperor to allow me to send an 
officer of my own selection to Siberia, to examine and 
report, secretly, on the treatment of these women pris- 
oners of state. I will do so now! I shall ask him to 
send your ‘nameless lady’ under escort of that same 
officer. She will thus be spared any indignity on the 
voyage. If you find her worthy, and Count Mouravieff 
shall approve, she can be quietly pardoned at some fu- 
ture day. I Wish to select an officer of tried character 
and experience — one who is above any duplicity. He 
must be of my own selection and a man not connected 
with the police!” concluded the dreaming Czarina. It 
was her pet project. The ready wit of Madame Moura- 
vieff was a boon to the suppliants now ; for she saw the 
golden opportunity, and acted on the instant. “May it 
please your Majesty, Major Dimitri Trepoff has my hus- 
band’s highest esteem. His record as an officer is a peer- 
less one. He is young, active, and sympathetic, and I 
hope he would be worthy of such a distinction as to 
represent you. A Grand Duke has honored him with 


FOR HER LIFE. 


337 


the place of Chief Aid, and his experience is vast! More- 
over, his leaving the Court, on duty, would arouse no 
remark. The officials in Siberia could not know his pur- 
pose, or prepare for his visit. With well-known bureau 
agents, they could disguise the truth!” The Czarina re- 
plied: “Countess, you may then ask your husband to 
present Major Trepoff to me at once. President Moura- 
vieff can give the Major secret letters to his brother the 
General at Irkutsk. I have the greatest esteem, too, 
for Dimitri Trepoff! I shall ask the Emperor to charge 
him with the prisoner’s delivery to her station, if the Em- 
peror commutes the sentence.” The sun seemed to 
smile in the kindly eyes of the graceful Czarina. The 
Empress rose, and the ladies respectfully kissed her 
bounty-dealing hand — only strong in kindness and 
mercy. They were radiant! It was an inspiration of the 
adroit, court-wise Countess Mouravieff to advance the 
interests of her favorite, Major Trepoff. Russian ladies 
devotedly adore gallantry in the field. Dimitri’s great 
“white-cross” was a blessing to him on this auspicious 
day. Cupid, rosy god, was aiding a love which from a 
palace through a prison, past the waiting scaffold, was 
to lead the devoted Trepoff far over the sparkling snows, 
mountain-girdled lakes, and dim, picturesque gorges of 
Siberia. Forest and plain, glen and winding river, 
sweeping to the blue Pacific, lay before the devoted 
pilgrim of love. The audience over, the ladies returned, 
with thankful hearts, to the mansion on the English quai. 
No one knew of Dimitri’s devoted love but I. My heart 
gave a bound of joy, unnoticed, as the Countess related 
the hopes of the future. Her principal interest was for 
Trepoff ’s advancement, as this would place him high in 
the favor of the gentle, delicate Czarina. A marked man 
at the glittering court would be the favored one of the 
Czarina. I bided my time. We only studied to coun- 
teract any future wiles of General Haxo, and Trepoff 
was far away, ignorant of this great boon. The skillful 
lady diplomatists, all versed in Russian intrigue, agreed 
that the baffled General Haxo would not dare to fur- 
ther risk his great official power and his valuable place 
by any special persecution of Hermione. The mere in- 
22 


338 


FOR HER LIFE. 


timation of the Empress’ personal interest would neut- 
ralize his enmity forever. A more solid obstacle, to his 
design, too, was the impregnable elevation of Nicolas 
Mouravieff, who, in a twenty-years grapple as Crown 
Servant, Ambassador, and War Councilor, had devoted- 
ly followed the imperial mandates. Fear might supple- 
ment Haxo’s awakened prudence. Such a princely foe 
would be too powerful for the sly chief. Behind him 
were arrayed the two families, and the old nobles of the 
Court. Our little cabal broke up. The two Komaroff 
ladies departed to confer with the President, and accom- 
panied Countess Mouravieff to- her stately mansion on 
the Moika. I was filled with a secret joy, for I knew 
Trepoff ’s heart secret. I decided to abide with Trepoff 
until the ultimate disposition of Hermione’s fate. It 
was not well to remain tete-a-tete in the house, where all 
were now glad to drop the harassing question of the 
hour. I wished also to baffle society’s curiosity. Now 
that our course was lined out Dimitri, Serge and myself, 
with the ladies and Count Mouravieff, would follow out 
the good work. All seemed to feel that General Zastrow 
and his family needed quiet, and to be kept as far out of 
current events as possible. They had surely suffered 
enough. Pleased and eager to aid, I then returned to 
my friend’s cozy bachelor quarters. Would the Empress 
really select him? It seemed only a happy dream! Di- 
mitri and Serge were already ensconced, comfortably, in 
huge easy chairs. They were enjoying the first real leis- 
ure since the joint arrest. 

Major Trepoff had already deposited with President 
Mouravieff the varied proofs of the case, and dispatched 
the locksmith for a crucial examination by the wily ex- 
dictator, who followed all the minute undercurrents of 
Russian life with a masterly experience. It was my 
first hour of relaxation, and a sense of comfort and 
safety stole over me. The Count, accustomed to quickly 
dispatch such affairs, would close all up, and receive his 
Majesty’s orders the next day. Police etiquette, capped 
by the positive order of the Czar, took the case now out 
of the dreadful Secret Section. It was now carried be- 
yond it, into the Privy Council’s final hands; and, we 


FOR HER LIFE. 


339 


feared General Ivan Haxo no longer! Trepoff had re- 
ported to General Davidoff the orders of the Emperor. 
The soldierly Commandant was happy to officially note 
the changed status of the mysterious Hermione. Di- 
mitri, with good judgment, obtained a personal order 
from Count Tolstoi, embodying the will of the sover- 
eign. And our helpless absentee was fenced around 
with safeguards! The never-flagging devotion of Du- 
rand made her but too happy to share Hermione’s retire- 
ment in the casemates; and the “secret brotherhood” 
dropped out of the case. Save for the absence of all 
communication, our “dangerous charge” was to-day far 
safer than at any time while playing hide-and-seek with 
the police. Major Trepoff informed us he had been 
very guarded in the disclosure of the extent of com- 
mutation hoped for; for Haxo might still conspire 
against her. He had plainly informed the lovely pris- 
oner that deportation as a state prisoner to some Sibe- 
rian town would be the very lightest form of the final 
punishment. And what a world of joyous hopes clung 
to a living future! Trepoff dreamed dreams of love. 
Hermione sent me messages of a tender gratitude. I 
knew that through that woman of magic resources, Du- 
rand, I would soon receive any new private wishes. And 
the curtain would yet rise on the past life of my stormy 
petrel! “Dimitri,” said I, “how would you like to take 
a little Siberian trip this winter? It would, perhaps, 
bring you near to friends!” He turned pale as I spoke. 
He was ignorant yet of all the Empress’ kind intentions. 
“Gladly would I go,” said he. “By rail, we Russians go 
a great interior distance now. Then, the sleigh voy- 
ages, over good snow, with the teams given to an ‘im- 
perial messenger,’ are simply delightful. I wouldn’t 
mind it a bit!” he said, affecting a fine carelessness. “The 
stations are only sixteen to eighteen miles apart, and 
the telegraph line follows the great main road. There 
are worse trips in Continental Europe. Once safely over 
the great Lake Baikal, and then running down the rivers 
on the smooth ice, the trip becomes a pleasure.” “How 
about the robbers, wolves, prowling assassins, and all the 
other romantic features?” I queried. “Travelers’ tales!” 


340 


FOR HER LIFE. 


smiled he. “My dear sir, our officers on the Pacific 
coast,” continued Dimitri, “and their families, often 
travel both summer and winter from Vladivostock to 
Petersburg, overland, in preference to the long swelter- 
ing sea route, via Suez canal, to Odessa. The Siberian 
bugaboo is a thing of the past! These stories largely 
fill the fertile brains of romancers, who know not that a 
great deal of Siberia is a lovely and liveable country, 
needing only a superior population and railroads to de- 
velop the wonderful natural resources. Wait till our 
railroad reaches the Pacific! I would not object to one 
winter away from the heated ball rooms and society 
round of St. Petersburg.” “I am glad you are so en- 
thusiastic,” said I, “for you are likely to enjoy this pleas- 
ure, and also to have very agreeable company in escort- 
ing a fair prisoner,” said I, maliciously; for I must be 
the first to bring him the good news. His eyes opened 
in astonishment. “What do you mean?” said he, eager- 
ly. I pitied the lover’s anxious heart throbs. I told him 
briefly of the Empress’ noble resolve, with regard to the 
inspection of the condition of the women prisoners, and 
cautioned him not to betray any eagerness as regarded 
Hermione, personally, lest General Haxo might craftily 
circumvent the new arrangements. “General Moura- 
vieff can tell you more. He is to present you to the Em- 
press at once,” I said, in conclusion. And TrepofFs 
face grew radiant. Dimitri sprang to his feet, pressed 
my hand, nodded to Serge, and was then off like a flash. 
He grasped the first cloak and turban as he disap- 
peared. He waited not for his own sleigh, but we saw 
him eagerly hail a passing one. It disappeared in a 
cloud of flying snow. I well knew his destination was 
the Mouravieff palace on the Moika. Serge stared at me 
in blank amazement. He was “in the wopds.” “What 
does all this mean?” said he, finally. "It means.” I re- 
plied, “that fate is sometimes kind. We are all but the 
puppets of a capricious fortune, Serge! After the whole 
trouble brought on us all, Dimitri is going to happily 
undertake the most romantic journey of his life — in the 
name of the Czar!” Serge’s eyes glistened. “I can 
see that he will have a varied experience, and much re- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


341 


sponsibility,” said the innocent naval officer, who had 
eyes now for but one sweet woman in the whole wide 
world. "I can hardly detect the delightful romance,” 
he skeptically concluded. “Serge, you are as blind as a 
bat!” I answered. “His life romance is now locked up 
in those casemates yonder!” I remarked, as I puffed a 
cloud of smoke, contemptuously, toward my late resi- 
dence over the river. “I will make it clear to you: He 
desperately loves Hermione! He will go to Siberia — for 
her sake!” Serge jumped (wound and all) to his feet. 
“And she?” he eagerly questioned. He was a picture of 
astonishment. “My dear boy,” I replied, “you will have 
to ask the fair lady yourself. You have some claims on 
her, as you came near being murdered in her defense. 
I have been just long enough in prison to lose any de- 
sire to linger underground in St. Petersburg. My lit- 
tle trip, just averted by good luck, to far Siberia, would 
not be as interesting as this one, even if the Gzar re- 
quested, or, rather, ordered it. I have seen about 
enough of Russia! America is good enough for me! 
I would like to see you married, though! Zastrow!” 
said I, seriously, “I will make my fiancee a promise, if 
I ever get safely out of Russia, never to speak again to a 
strange lady en voyage in my life— -if, indeed, I am ever 
permitted to travel alone again! But I think the Schuyl- 
kill banks will chain me to their calm beauties in future ! 
I have thrown away time enough in romantic non- 
sense!” Serge was absorbed in the construction of a 
huge cigarette. His eyes were very thoughtful. I told 
him all, and he was wildly overjoyed. “We must all act 
with extreme caution,” he said. “Trepoff’s only plan is 
to be utterly indifferent to anything but his mission. He 
can certainly secretly assure the decent comfort of that 
wonderful woman, and by and by her pardon will open 
the road to his future happiness, if all goes well,” was 
his command. “Mouravieff always carries his point; 
and, Vera is irresistible! Many a Russian lady of rank 
has followed her lover or husband over there when de- 
ported. Several of the sweetest women of our land have 
owed their happy future married life to the accidents of 
our queerly blinded administration. If Count Moura- 


342 ' 


FOR HER LIFE. 


vieff chooses, his brother, the Governor General, can 
make Hermione’s stay in Siberia quite as comfortable 
as in Paris,” he remarked. “Of course, a bit lonely — 
that’s all ! At a number of Siberian cities, life is positive- 
ly enjoyable. At ‘Irkutsk,’ it is even brilliant. The Paris 
of Siberia is on Lake Baikal; yet to be the gem of Asian 
high life. Ah! the magic touch of the railway will 
change all!” “Do they not oppress the deported peo- 
ple? Do they admit them to share any human enjoy- 
ments?” I asked, with interest. “Wait for Dimitri’s own 
disinterested report on his return!” said Serge, with a 
laugh. “He will be able to enlighten us! That is, if he 
tells the whole story! Of course, I speak only of the 
state prisoners. The felons only get what they would in 
any other land.” And the wounded hero was smiling 
very roguishly. So it was to be! The sentence might 
be that Trepoff should be led a real captive in love’s rosy 
charms — “in the name of the Czar.” 

It was late when Major Trepoff returned. Serge and I 
had this night enjoyed our bachelor dinner in easy com- 
fort. The Major was fortunate enough to share the 
hospitality of Count Mouravieff’s patriarchal table; for 
we all now believed in rowing hard, while the tide helped 
us. Over the wine and walnuts, Dimitri had conferred 
at length with the great noble. In the salon of the 
Countess the two Komaroff ladies, with their graceful 
hostess, sounded the praises of the Empress; and a 
chorus of loving gratitude was raised in her honor. 
Serge, with a becoming delicacy, agreed with me to 
leave Trepoff in ignorance of his knowledge of the grow- 
ing passion for the fair prisoner, who seemed fated to 
involve every one near her in her destiny. For the real 
secret of her life was yet to be unveiled! Was she worthy 
of Trepoff’s love? My own idea was that if the bright- 
eyed falcon found a master the current of her future 
years would flow happily. Future events, and time alone, 
could lead up to an oblivion of her saddened cloudy past. 
Pardon and a clear reinstatement in her social position 
would only be achieved by the gentle oblivion of months, 
as well as newer local excitements would be soon chasing 
her name from the public mind. The hautmonde for- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


343 


gets so soon in watching the passing show. “Through 
night to light” the quest of Hermione’s life must be care- 
fully followed out, with its lurking peril and intrigue at 
every step. The private secretary of Count Mouravieff 
was already finishing a brief and clear statement of the 
case. The frightened locksmith’s evidence was taken, 
and he was dismissed, assured of future protection. 
Trepoff was directed to join the President at the Privy 
Council room in the morning; and so, our souls were 
buoyed up by our faith in the kindly old noble’s bon- 
homme. Before the assembly of the Council, Count Mou- 
ravieff intended to present to the Confidential Secretary 
of the Emperor’s Private Cabinet, the full report, obtain 
at once a brief audience, and then personally handle the 
matter in the open Council. Revision of the sentence 
concluded, it then only needed the seal to insure the 
prisoner a positive immunity from all further police at- 
tack; for then she was inviolable and invulnerable. The 
“Secret Section” for once was muzzled. They dared not 
touch a woman under the special protection of Moura- 
vieff. The question of her future conduct to Siberia 
was, of course, to be left to the gracious Empress; and 
the details of arrangement to the skillful hands of the 
great ladies who sympathized, as all true daughters of 
Eve do, with the lover and the lady for love’s own sweet 
sake. So much can be done under the rose, in easy- 
going Russia. The main battle was won at last! It 
was considered wise by the adroit Madame Mouravieff 
to conceal from the grizzled diplomatist any especial 
personal purpose in Hermione’s falling into the hands of 
her gallant escort; for the selection of another official 
escort might follow any ill-timed interference of others 
— the revengeful police officials. 

These things manage themselves better even in Rus- 
sia without too much interference; for such details swing 
into place if the main plan is a good one. 

It was a matter of course that under such news the 
spirits of our little triumvirate rose mightily. Serge, his 
wound healed, was ready now to assist in the 
departure of my family; to present himself for duty, and 
to follow out the most agreeable task of his life. He 


344 


FOR HER LIFE. 


had now to go through all the technical and intermina- 
ble formality which attends a Russian wedding of the 
higher classes; for this union would weld together per- 
manently Hermione’s friends at last! A high noble, an 
officer, a man near the crown, must begin with his bap- 
tismal papers, then gain the imperial consent, and fulfill 
much Greek church formality, the selection of a “pere 
and mere d’honneur” for the occasion; official visits to 
the whole family, and a few more requisites, are also 
necessary. On our table, a flaming bowl of Vodki punch 
was prepared in honor of Vera’s victory. 

We toasted the generous Emperor, that gracious lady 
his consort, and almost all the Komaroffs and Moura- 
vieff clans, with the loyal Zastrows. It was natural we 
omitted that great functionary General Ivan Haxo, in 
this symposium. He, the unbidden guest, was nursing 
his humiliation afar; but not a moment forgetting to 
cherish his hatred and revenge. “Better than shooting 
Polish spies, Serge,” said the Major, as he drained his 
glass to the future bride, the indefatigable Vera. The 
happiness of Trepoff was decidedly contagious. Serge 
smiled, and then returned the toast, with a mocking 
simplicity, as he clinked glasses. “Dimitri,” said the 
duellist-lover, “I am afraid you will have a very tiresome 
trip. I pity you!” We had forgotten to toast Hermione. 
The delicacy of the situation prevented the Major from 
returning this sally with any reference to her name; but 
a strange look in his eyes told us that his heart was deep- 
ly stirred. He was in soul now far away, by her side, in 
the lonely cell on the Neva. “I suppose you can stand 
the fatigue, Trepoff,” said I, soothingly. He flashed me 
a glance to limit my teasing him about that famous trip. 
“I hope so!” said the Major, thoughtfully. So, we were 
a very joyous party on this happy night. The hour was 
late before the mantle of sleep wrapped us in dreams, 
each of his own rosy-clouded future, while the drifting 
snowflakes fell lightly in the streets outside. Blessed 
land of dreams! Freedom, hope, light, and life are 
there, to illumine the devious path of the future before 
the world-weary children of men! 

Stirring betimes were we all the next morning; for I 


FOR HER LIFE. 


345 


had only to await the definite action of the council to 
feel myself free to mingle once more with the social 
public, and to close up all my long-neglected trust. It 
was my desire that my neglected Madeleine should, un- 
der the gentle guidance of Madame Komaroff and Vera, 
see something of the glories of the new Muscovite Paris. 
I had no desire to be unduly prominent now! I felt free 
to make all my arrangements for departure as soon as 
the great seal was affixed to Hermione’s papers. By 
general advice of the whole circle of friends, the ladies 
were to be guardians of Madeleine, as any extensive ac- 
quaintance with local society would only continue the 
general mystery and excitement as to the whole episode, 
and we wished* to assure Hermione’s future deliverance 
by hastening her away from Haxo’s sphere of action. 
Serge (on Cupid’s special service) adorned himself for 
a tete-a-tete breakfast with the lady of his heart. It was 
but a few moments after our cheerful coffee when Major 
Trepoff departed for the Winter Palace. His presenta- 
tion to the Czarina as her chosen knight was to be the 
crowning event of his social career; and the hand of the 
gentle Czarina would give him the highest accolade of 
social rank possible. Her gracious favor was the star of 
our success. To be honored with the special instructions 
of the fair Empress placed him at the head of all the 
gilded youth of the Court. Nodding plume, golden 
aiguillettes, superb uniform, and a blaze of orders and 
medals, made Trepoff a gallant martial figure as he 
strode down the steps. His own beautiful equipage was 
at the door. He then dashed away through the crowded 
streets to secure the fate of our mysterious enchantress. 
I turned my eyes longingly now towards the far frontier. 
Certain twinges admonished me to escape in all this sun- 
ny weather. For clouds might lower again. Happy 
hours were those awaiting me at the Admiralty Quai. 
The light was back in Madeleine’s eyes: and I was re- 
habilitated, — the hero of a romantic mystery, — and, — a 
vaguely hopeful merriment pervaded the once troubled 
household. 

General Michael greeted me with a hearty cordiality, 
as he took his own departure for the palace. For he was 


346 


FOR HER LIFE. 


to be there to support our general interests and, now 
aroused, to aid in circumventing the machinations of 
Haxo. Justine and Madame Zastrow were desirous of 
framing every pleasurable surrounding for my gentle 
charge, Madeleine. We all looked forward to a happy 
reunion, over the borders of the great Land of Peter. 
The whole aspect of Nature seemed to have changed in 
the sunlight of happiness. A bright winter sun sparkled, 
too, on the snows in the midday hours. Across the Neva, 
now spread a sheet of ringing crystal ice stretching to 
where the great, gray fortress walls loomed in the air. 
While the jingling Russian bells merrily rang out, and 
hundreds of sleighs dashed by, — in a council room of the 
Winter Palace, — the high nobles named as the Privy 
Council, debated the case of Hermione. Presiding over 
the trusted few, the wily Mouravieff listened in silence 
to the general opinion. The routine-wedded council 
was divided. A number carelessly called for the due 
execution of the sentence ; others indifferently suggested 
penal transportation to Siberia. Some called for simple 
deportation. In the hands of these same listless men, lay 
the task of guarding the safety of the Imperial family. 
Old custom cut off appeals to the individual generosity 
of the Czar. For, to them, all severity and grim punish- 
ment seemed to be the only pledge of safety for their 
charges. The other pressing cases disposed of, Count 
Mouravieff arose, for he had bided his time, and then in 
his passionless voice, said, — as he indicated a matter of 
some unusual gravity: 

“Gentlemen! I have been specially charged with read- 
ing you a rescript of his Majesty the Emperor, in this 
particular case. I was honored with a call to examine 
into certain facts and papers, bearing on this involved 
affair. I was directed also to make summary report on 
them, — at a special audience granted to me this morn- 
ing. The methods of the Secret Bureau, — in this case, — 
are not approved. His Majesty the Emperor personally 
directs the following: 

“I. The proceedings of the court are disapproved. 

“II. The death sentence is annulled. 

“III. The prisoner Hermione (nationality and true 


FOR HER LIFE. 


347 


name unknown) will be deported to Siberia, — as a state 
prisoner. She will be delivered to the Governor General, at 
Irkutsk (under the special orders of the Private Bureau 
of the Emperor). Orders regarding her will be sent to 
the Governor General, from the Private Bureau; — all 
other directions in this case will be from that source. 

“IV. The proceedings and this order will be sealed 
with the Great Seal and instantly transmitted to Gen- 
eral Davidoff, who will simply detain the prisoner, being 
responsible for her proper treatment as a state prisoner 
of rank. 

“V. The papers and private property of the prisoner 
will all be delivered over to Major Dimitri Trepoff 
(now on special duty), in the Ministry of the Interior.” 

When General Mouravieff finished, a respectful silence 
ensued. The secretary of the council then gravely wrote 
out the official review. He attached the order to the pro- 
ceedings, duly sealed the whole series, — and then present- 
ed them to Count Mouravieff, for his official signature. 
This was instantly appended. The papers handed to 
Count Tolstoi, with a remark which at once brought the 
waiting Major Trepoff before the council. 

“You will deliver these to General Davidoff and re- 
port later to me,” said Count Tolstoi. The silent Major 
bowed and withdrew. The very name of the suspect was 
forgotten before the counsellors had time to yearn for 
the coming dejeuner. A single life counts for so little! 
A few moments more broke up the council. The ex- 
Premier quickly joined the anxious Major in the ante- 
room. 

The Empress’ Chamberlains now rapidly reported that 
the Czarina would receive Count Mouravieff. Hardly time 
was left for the young officer to congratulate the veteran 
chief on his official victory, when both had kissed the fair 
white hand of the lady of ninety millions of adoring sub- 
jects. There was but one gentle voice needed now to 
insure the rescue of Hermione from ignominy and 
shame, for Death had fled away, baffled, on dusky wings! 
Beautiful and beaming was the Empress, in her special 
audience room, where her maids of honor waited for the 
imperial nod. And, there were sparkling, furtive smiles 


FOR HER LIFE. 


§48 

showered upon the young patrician whom a Czarina 
trusted. Major Trepoff was received, with an especial 
condescension. Already favorably known, his special 
selection as a Knight in her Majesty’s own service, had 
made him a fairy prince of all possible future glories to 
the Ladies of the Day. The sun of Imperial favor spark- 
led back in their approving eyes. And, yet the pale-faced 
Trepoff was trembling only for the lonely woman in her 
cell. Count Mouravieff formally presented the young offi- 
cer, and then reported the action of the council. The 
Empress’ face brightened up, — for the way was clear! 
The Czarina said, as she fixed her dark eyes on the young 
officer: 

“The Emperor has been pleased to grant my request 
that an inspection be made of the condition and sur- 
roundings of the women state prisoners in Siberia, — and 
the general convict classes. He has graciously allowed 
me to name you, — Major Trepoff, — for this special in- 
spection, which is made on my own suggestion alone!” 

Dimitri bowed low in silent thanks. He could hard- 
ly realize the possibilities now to shield and guard the 
helpless one on the Neva! 

“You may arrange your affairs. You will receive spe- 
cial instructions from the Private Imperial Bureau. I 
desire you to most fully confer with Count Mouravieff. 
You will receive from him personal letters and every 
possible kindly introduction to his brother, the Governor 
General, at Irkutsk. Count Tolstoi will also be ordered 
to give you an Imperial Passport, especially placing ev- 
ery facility at your disposal. You are now to visit the 
entire Siberian region, using your own judgment as to 
all details. Orders sent to you will be from the Private 
Bureau of the Emperor alone. You will be also author- 
ized to use the telegraph, directly, to the Imperial Secre- 
tary.” The Imperial Consort paused, and then said, im- 
pressively : 

“I repose every confidence in your kindness and zeal. 
You will understand, Major, that your report is intended 
for me, personally. I wish to know the real situation of 
the deported women of supposed good character!” Ma- 
jor Trepoff knelt and then gratefully kissed the Imperial 


FOR HER LIFE. 


349 


lady’s hand, murmuring his thanks; — for he dared not 
show the joy mirrored in his tell-tale face now! 

“Count Mouravieff, I shall send for you later and con- 
fer personally, on this important subject,” continued the 
Czarina. It was the last guarantee of Hermione’s future 
safety! The old nobleman bowed his grateful acknowl- 
edgments. 

“I desire Major Trepoff to conduct this unfortunate 
lady prisoner, at once, to Irkutsk, where the Governor 
General can take charge of her till further pleasure. I 
shall see that her case receives a special consideration. 
If she can be proved only imprudent, perhaps, pardon 
may come later!” 

Both gentlemen took their leave, and very kindly were 
the eyes of the gentle Empress as the young Major de- 
parted, followed now by a rattling series of electric 
glances from the bright-eyed ladies of the circle. So 
dashing a young paladin did not come every day, even 
within the reach of their sunny smiles. 

With affectionate solicitude, Trepoff conducted the 
well-pleased Mouravieff to his sleigh. Eager to be away 
to the fortress, the warmth of his adieu caused the old 
hero to wonder, as he gathered the furs around his yet 
stately form. The old man’s eyes were dreamy, as he 
followed the already disappearing Major, who was off 
like an arrow. 

“Young blood! — well! Life’s romance comes but 
once, after all,” thought the veteran, as it dawned on his 
mind that a little more than official solicitude carried 
Dimitri like a wild huntsman so rapidly away to the 
citadel. In his own gay youth, when chasing the chiv- 
alric children of Schamyl, through the glorious defiles of 
the Caucasus, — no man was fonder of the deep, tender 
gleams of dark Circassian eyes than Nicolas Mouravieff. 
Love and war go hand in hand. Certain twinges of old 
memories reminded the great man also of proud, witty, 
blue-eyed Austrian belles; of Italian beauties, and 
charming French ladies: inimitable in their native 
graces. "Diplomacy had led him into many of these little 
romances of the old time. It was undoubted the path 
of his life had not been all thorns;— for the old man 


350 


FOE HER LIFE. 


smiled and sighed, — as he thought over the unnecessary 
good actions, performed by him, in this later episode; 
and so, he contented himself philosophically with seeing 
a younger hero reap the reward. A Richelieu in finesse, 
— he was not altogether displeased to see how all the 
ladies of his family had led him in his old age into a sort 
of “Hoodman Blind” game. For he well knew there was 
an undercurrent of Love sweeping along somewhere 
near him! Proud of his Countess, fond of Trepoff, ad- 
miring the inimitable Komaroff ladies, — the old chief 
was also not averse to having taught General Haxo that 
his old hand could yet show the grasp of steel in the vel- 
vet glove! So, in the greatest contentment, he mounted 
the staircase of the Moika mansion, to be most tenderly 
cross-questioned at once by his bevy of fair conspira- 
tors. While the flying steeds were bearing Dimitri Tre- 
poff away to the fortress, at the window of her casemate, 
gazing steadily out, stood Hermione de Vries. Buoyed up 
by her own brave soul, — her agony of these eventful 
days was shown only in the calm, set resolution of that 
noble face. For the relief of Death’s oblivion seemed near. 
All depended now on the friends whose power was limit- 
ed to lessening the dread sentence. And, what dreary 
future lay before her? The woman of the world was 
lost in the martyr now! 

Leaning on her rounded arm, the thought of a lonely 
future in Siberia weighed heavily upon her heart. Better 
death than to be sent where every petty official could heap 
upon her their nameless indignities in the voiceless obliv- 
ion of that far off land. There, the great rivers spring 
from the Baikal ranges and wander away, flowing from 
the real roof of the Asian world to the frozen north, — to 
the far, blue Pacific, and on down through mystic China 
to the Yellow Sea! A land of a chilling silence! The 
land of dead Hopes! — of Death itself! 

Durand, quiet and watchful, gazed on her great-souled 
mistress. But, her steadfast soul had never flinched! She 
forgot her own daily dangers in encouraging the woman 
she had learned to love. A sound of shuffling feet, a 
quick, energetic, manly tread following, clanging doors 
opened, and Hermione’s eyes, like dancing stars upon 


FOR HER LIFE. 


351 


the darkness of the lonely sea, met the eager glance of 
Dimitri as he sprang into the room. It was a tale told 
without words! The old warder motioned to Durand, 
who followed him out. The iron doors then closed upon 
the lady and her lover. It was the strangest place for the 
tryst of an eternal love! She clasped his hands in hers, — 
as he kissed them in silence. There was a quivering of 
love’s own regret in her low voice as she spoke: 

“You bring me my fate, Dimitri! It is over at last!” 
she steadily said ; — for, she could not read 'the secret 
hidden in the happiness which shone out on the soldier’s 
face. 

“I bring you your life, darling!” he said, as she sank 
trembling into a chair. His supporting arms were round 
her and his kisses raining on the white, helpless hands 
warmed the gentle current of her blood. In a few mo- 
ments, she opened her eyes! Her kneeling lover was 
eager now to tell the whole story of the final disposition 
of her fate by the Imperial Rulers. 

“Sit beside me here! Tell me all! I can bear it now!” 
was the unknown goddess’ order to her faithful knight. 
Alas! it is rare that those gloomy walls ever hear a 
recital of such blessed promise, — of softened penalty, — 
of life saved from the rack, — or the degrading touch of 
the executioner! As the story progressed, Hermione’s 
sparkling eye and heaving bosom told of the refluent tide 
of hope and aspiration! The splendid eyes were veiled 
with tears of womanly gratitude, as the triumphant Major 
then detailed the generous devotion of the ladies, the 
wise counsels of Count Mouravieff, and the carefully-ex- 
tended personal clemency of the gentle Czarina. Now! 
Hermione knew all! Her lover looked at his falcon- 
eyed prisoner with passionate eagerness. Her eyes were 
downcast and dreamy, for he had clasped her trembling 
hands in his. It was only a change from one jailer to 
another! The demand came very soon! Made imperious 
by a love passing all bounds of prudence, Trepoff said: 

“Hermione! — your life is safe now! I can answer for 
your journey to the distant land, where none will know, 
'—where nothing can part us! I ask now a life for a life! 
Be mine! — you must be mine forever!” 


352 


FOR HER LIFE. 


The fair unknown smiled at the eagerness, which 
proved how much of the headlong boy was yet merged 
in the man before her. 

“Your words are wild, Major! On the threshold of 
the scaffold, with the chill of prison walls still clinging to 
me, you ask me to burden your life with mine!- It is 
madness! Dismiss the thought,” said Hermione. “You, 
an Empress’ favorite! I, a condemned prisoner!” ^ 

“I will never cease to claim you at the hands of Fate 
while I have breath, my own beautiful darling!” cried the 
soldier, as he knelt beside her, covering her trembling 
hands with his burning kisses. And, that mighty god of 
men, Love, was lord of all in that dreary prison cell ! 

“You can not! — you shall not!” replied the agitated 
woman. “Think of all your friends, of your haughty 
family, your future career, your bounden duty to the 
Empress! No! — it must not be! It would be your 
ruin !” 

“Do you believe that I love you?” said Trepoff, — and 
then his burning eyes sought hers in vain. He would 
have his answer; — and, she feared to deny the truth! 
Downcast now were the fluttering eyelids, — her white 
hands lay idle on her lap, — her eyes told the story in the 
sweet surrender of her very soul to him ! Silence reigned, 
only broken by the echoes of the harsh commands of the 
busy officers, drilling the guards below in the prison 
yard ! 

“Can you answer me, darling?” the lover persisted. “I 
will guard you with my last drop of blood!” — for, he 
would fain hear it from her lips. Hermione rose like a 
queen; she led him up to the grated window. 

“Major Trepoff!” she said, her bosom panting, “do 
you see that wild bird sailing over the Neva?” He 
watched the graceful flight of the gray gull swiftly cleav- 
ing the wintry air. In silence, he bowed his head. 

“Meet me when I am as free as that bird! — in any land 
on earth ! — in other times ! — and, I will answer your ques- 
tion with rapture. You speak now only to a broken- 
hearted woman, — a child of misery,— the very sport of 
Fortune! Is it fair to press me now?” She threw up 


FOR HER LIFE. 


353 


her head, with the old pride, and then fixed eyes on him 
which blazed with the fire of eager inquiry! 

“Listen, Hermione,” said he, gently, as he led her to a 
seat. “I have sworn to you that I love you. I will keep 
faithful watch and ward over you! You shall not know 
sorrow or shame while Dimitri Trepoff lives! In far- 
away Siberia, I can place you as a simply deported per- 
son, where you will have all the respect which is due to 
your real station in life. I have powerful friends be- 
hind me. In a few months, you may be pardoned! In a 
fortnight we will leave here together. Our three families 
here will agitate your pardon. I only ask you to promise 
that I may know now that I have the right to win your 
hand, and live the rest of my days in your love! Answer 
me! I will not press you farther! Let me only look to- 
wards the future, and see you waiting there for me as my 
wife! My poor darling!” He could say no more, for 
his heart was throbbing in the exquisite pain of Love! 
There were happy tears in her eyes as she answered, 
brokenly: 

“Dimitri, I know that you love me! You have toiled 
to save me from the worst of horrors! I would have 
given to you my latest sigh! I will not say now I love 
you! You know nothing of my past! You can not read 
my history on this troubled face!” — she paused. 

“My poor darling,” said the officer, soberly, “I ask you 
not now to tell me the whole sad story ! — my Hermione ! 
I will be content with one assurance from your own lips ! 
Is there any reason why you would not be mine, if you 
were a free woman, and in happier days?” There was a 
ring in her voice now of true womanly pride : 

“I would not decline the honor of your alliance, were 
I free, on any grounds which touched my own life! I 
am worthy to say, if I could, — if I dared,— Dimitri, I 
love you with my whole heart and soul !’ I will not drag 
you down ! I will not ruin your name, or place you un- 
der the ban of the good Czarina’s distrust! You are in the 
sunshine of Fortune now!” 

“But, if you are pardoned?” he eagerly demanded. 

“My friend,” said she, slowly. “It is a weary journey 
to the far-off land where I may end my days! No, my 


354 


FOR HER LIFE. 


generous friend! I will accept your guidance, guardian- 
ship, counsel and every protection from you. Then, 
when you have placed me there, — where quiet forgetful- 
ness will wrap my sad past, — you will return, — you will 
marry some bright girl, — and forget poor Hermione!” 
Her voice ended in a sob, — and her queenly face was now 
buried in her hands. 

“Never! I swear by the God who made me! Her- 
mione! I will follow you, over land and sea, to some 
place where, in freedom and in happy hours, you can 
answer my question! You shall be mine! I will wait for 
your answer!” was the soldier’s firm reply, “to my dying 
day!” He would not be denied! 

“Then, listen,” said his lovely charge. “I owe my life 
to Walter Grahame, who has risked everything for me 
on mere faith. His liberty, his peace of mind, his future 
has been endangered by his generous aid, and my foolish 
quest, — and his steadfast adherence to me. He has a 
kind and lovely sister, — another who is allied to your 
house: — I will not answer you now. I will promise this: 
They will leave soon; I will now permit him, before we 
go, to read my story, — which he has under seal. He 
can tell my story to his sister Justine, — to Madame Kom- 
aroff, — and that lovely angel Vera, who will soon marry 
your cousin Serge. It is due to those ladies to know 
at last who I am. On your return, they can tell you all! 
You can, then, work whole-heartedly for me. If you 
achieve my pardon, I will answer you! But, I will not, 
even by a promise, link your fate to mine while the prison 
taint clings to me. I was born free!” — her eyes flashed! 
The soldier mused in silence. 

“And, I may ask no more?” he finally pleaded. 

“Dimitri, I would die for you, but I can not go farther 
now! The fate of others might yet depend on mine; — I 
will not claim your young life till I know it will not be 
your ruin, to love the wanderer whom you have saved 
from the last heart-break to a woman. Shame before 
Death !” Her voice was as low and sweet as a final good- 
bye to Hope. It was the self-sacrifice of a loving woman, 
and, Trepoff saw through the tender subterfuge. 

“Hermione, my own only love!” said Trepoff, “I shall 


FOR HER LIFE. 


355 


see you daily, — now, — to arrange all for your departure. 
I will not press this in an unmanly way, when you are 
not free! I shall make every plan before you go, as if 
you had answered me. I know that you must yet suffer 
long in exile, — but, thank God! even that will be lighter 
than if you were a felon prisoner. You will be only kept 
to the limits of the city which you are sent to. Moura- 
vieff’s powerful arm will be spread out over you. The 
Komaroff ladies will watch all here, and dear old Serge 
wit! aid, too! I must go now, my own poor darling, — 
but, to-morrow I will be with you. I have to dispose of 
all your effects as you wish. I have freedom to do all 
that is proper. You may have any free woman to go with 
you whom you may wish to take. I will furnish anything 
required. Under the laws, your correspondence, alone, 
will be supervised. You can have everything you need. 
General Mouravieff, at Irkutsk, will see that you are well 
provided always.” This thoughtful, prescient kindness 
touched Hermione, as her lover rose to go, and report 
in detail to the General. She rose, fixing her sweet eyes 
on him. 

“Major Trepoff,” said she, softly, “I thank you for the 
delicate foresight of all your provision for me. I will 
take my good Durand, who will not fear to share my 
fate. My whole affairs here I will place in your hands. 
I wish Walter Grahame to know all. He is a lawyer. I 
will give you written directions as to everything. Can I 
not see him?” she questioned; “for I have much, much 
to trust to his honor and experience!” Trepoff pon- 
dered. 

“Yes! — on an order from Count Tolstoi, at General 
Mouravieff’s request. It might be possible, but we must 
not arouse General Haxo.” 

“I thank you,” said the lady. “Go now, beloved friend, 
and bear to the gracious Empress the blessings of a 
woman who calls Heaven’s choicest gifts down on her 
queenly head. To Count Mouravieff, to all the ladies, 
and the gentlemen of your family,— I send my grateful 
thanks. I must see Walter Grahame, whose devotion 
has saved me in these awful days, tie has put even his 
good name in my hands! I regret, I deplore, all the 


356 


FOR HER LIFE. 


trouble I have brought you.” Her eyes were dreamy, 
and her hands lay helplessly before her! She was fight- 
ing against Love! 

“It has brought you to me, Hermione!” said Trepoff, 
with an unspoken prayer in his voice, as he kissed her 
delicate hands. She was so sweet, so tenderly prophetic 
in her gentle attempts at a denial of what was shining 
in her happy eyes ! The love that reigned in her heaving 
bosom! 

“Not yet, Dimitri,” said she; “a long quest is before 
you. I will not ruin you. If I am free,” — and her voice 
then faltered, as she softly added, as he sprang to her 
side — “I will then say to you, ‘Dimitri! I love you!’” 

She did not resist now, as his arms drew her to his 
breast. With her eyes shining tenderly, she whispered, 
“Go now, and leave me! I will give you one assurance, 
and the very last! Before- you go, — the three dear ladies 
who will know my story may tell you, if you ask, that I 
am worthy to be your wife, — but, only when free ! When 
you return, they can tell you all my story; — for then the 
seal of silence will be broken for you, only, — only you. 
If ever I meet you, after you know all, my answer will 
be, this” — she raised her face to his! Dimitri Trepoff 
knew that, — far away, — in the dim future, that love would 
be his, which pride and a prison restraint now locked in 
her steadfast breast! For, only on equal terms, would 
the bright Falcon mate! 

One last embrace, — a clang of the door, — her lover was 
gone! The lady, in the arms of her faithful guardian 
Durand, sighed her thanks to the God of Mercy, who 
had lifted the dread shadow from that prison door! And, 
though behind bars, an angel, the spirit of Love, stood 
beside her, whispering, “Wait! wait!” 

Serge eyed Major Trepoff very keenly when he re- 
turned. He was grave and silent. The man who had 
shared all Hermione’s sorrows saw in the Major’s eyes 
the shining promise of his faith, — his love, — and that 
he would achieve yet her pardon. In the name of the 
Czar! 


FOR HER LIFE. 


357 


CHAPTER XII. 

THE STAR OF POLAND — WEDDING BELLS — OFF TO 
SIBERIA — NEMESIS. 

Ill the now closing scenes of my eventful stay on the 
Neva, much was yet before me to accomplish. When 
another day gave us its semi-illumination, all was activity 
at Trepoff’s house. Dimitri had to attend to his affairs, 
outfit and instructions. He must take official leave of 
the Grand Duke. There were also conferences with 
Mouravieff, his own final orders from the Empress, and 
all his arrangements for a long six months’ frontier tour. 
In addition, the personal comfort of Hermione was a side 
study of engrossing attention to the happy man, who 
hugged his hopes to his silent breast. She must be se- 
cretly outfitted and made ready. Serge was pleading to 
satisfy the great desire of his lover’s heart. He ardently 
wished to marry Princess V era before our departure ; and 
a “sine qua non” of the ceremony was that Dimitri Trep- 
off should be his best man. Count Mouravieff was to be 
the Pere d’Honneur, and Madame Zastrow would act as 
Mere d’Honneur on behalf of her young kinsman. All 
this gentle social diplomacy necessitated the immediate 
visit to St. Petersburg of Governor General Komaroff. 

Dimitri Trepoff’s task was a serious one; for he feared 
Haxo’s prying eyes. Serge had rather flattered himself 
that the imperious little Princess Vera would gain the 
victory for him, and, he was right! His labors were 
light; — fortunate man! To me was allotted by Fate, 
as an old traveler, the usual duty to “pack and move on;” 
and I had at last attained all the objects of my visit! 
Loud calls on the heart telephone from Philadelphia 
were ringing me up! Therefore, I repaired at once to 
Count Mouravieff, who obtained for me himself a spe- 
cial “permission de sejour.” My passports were all ready 
visad for departure, but I wished to see the coming wed- 
ding. Madeleine and her guardian Justine were now en- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


m 

joying the quaint sights of a grand northern capital in its 
mad winter whirl. My daily visit and breakfast with the 
family was to me a reward for the enforced absence, 
while enjoying the Czar’s “military hospitality.” 

As soon as my permit was handed to me, I drove to 
the American Legation. My luke-warm friend, the Sec- 
retary, was only too eager now to extend all the official 
civilities. I coldly thanked him, and then, made my 
farewell as brief as his courtesies had been stinted. An 
intelligent American may safely discard many of our 
foreign representatives, and always find a warmer wel- 
come and a more intelligent help from strangers. The 
splendid results of a patch-work political foreign repre- 
sentation are incompetence and neglect. I possessed my- 
self of Hermione’s sealed packet, and all my own letters, 
and papers. They were very strangely returned to me ! I 
telegraphed at once to all my correspondents to send all 
new matter “Poste Restante, — Vienna.” I considered all, 
and had decided to go on by Moscow and Warsaw to Vi- 
enna. I did not care to stop over at Wilna, or to repass 
the frontier at Eydtkuhnen. I would thus be enabled to 
see Poland, and the antique capital of Russia — Moscow ! 

Driving to Trepoff’s, I made myself comfortable. Fol- 
lowing the brief directions from Hermione, sent me by 
the Major, I opened and read the long-withheld story 
of the wanderer’s life. I found a manuscript, and with 
it the note penned by the “bright-eyed unknown,” when 
momentary death stared her in the face. In her clear 
hand, these words greeted me: 


“In Prison. 

“My one unselfish Friend: 

“God alone knows when this will meet your eye. I 
thank you for the devotion which you have shown to me. 
I will never forget it, — in this world or the next. In- 
closed, is a sealed letter with directions, and my will : of 
which I have made you and Major Trepoff executors, 
with my banker added. Please have the signature certi- 
fied here, by the bank notary. You are to follow the di- 
rections in the letter and to impart my poor life romance 


FOR HER LIFE. 


m 

to no one, except as therein stated. If I should live, you 
will have further directions. 

“May every blessing rest on you and yours. 

“Yours in life and death, 

“Hermione de Vries, 
“Countess Arline Oborska, 
“once Arline Lazienska.” 

The letter dropped from my hands. I knew the Obor- 
skis, and Lazienskis, as two of the very oldest families 
of Poland. Even the remnant of their great estates made 
them distinguished in the society of Vienna and Paris. 
Placing aside the will and sealed papers, I read the 
story of my “Beautiful Unknown.” 


“I am Arline Oborska of Poland. My father was 
Count Ladislas Lazienski. Our estates are near Cra- 
cow. I was a little child when the last wild insurrection 
of 1865 gave poor Poland over to fire and sword. My 
mother, Natalie Sadowska, was one of the most 
spirited and beautiful of our Polish ladies. It is from her 
I inherit those poor personal attractions, which caused 
my friends to call me, in happier days, The Star of Po- 
land/ Always in the van of patriotic plans, my father 
foresaw the result of the despairing effort to throw off 
the Russian yoke. Our estates were vast, even after re- 
peated spoliation: my merry childhood was passed in 
the lovely home of my family. In no part of the world 
have I found the happiness which reigned in that dear 
old castle. While I played in the beautiful gardens, or 
watched my lovely and devoted mother in her home, 
delighting all our circle, my father was busied with his 
trusted friends in preparing for the struggle to come; 
— 1848 had blotted out one generation of gallant Poles; 
— in 1863 the older patriots vainly tried to save the rem- 
nants of our people from a bloody and useless attempt 
to conquer the Russian tyrant. My two spirited brothers 
were cadets at the Polish school in Warsaw. They were 


360 


FOR HER LIFE. 


ardent patriots, — alas! doomed by their spirit and loyalty 
to die for poor Poland! I am the only survivor of our 
branch of the old family. Every true Pole is a born 
conspirator: — only those who have sold themselves to 
Russia are quiescent. The conspirator is a madman, for 
Russia will never relax her iron hand. The traitor and 
spy, who is on the secret list of the Russian government, 
is a slave. My gallant father was an ardent patriot, but 
his keen intellect told him how unequal was the strug- 
gle. With great foresight, he placed some of our funds, 
derived from the sale of property (cautiously conducted), 
in other lands, to provide for such of his family as might 
survive the coming revolution. Stern, martial and de- 
voted, — he kept this knowledge from my adored mother. 
When the war storm burst upon us, he had provided a 
place of safety in France for my mother and myself. 
Every effort was made to give me all training suitable 
to my rank. My growing delight in life was only checked 
by the sad day when my dear father rode out of the 
castle gate (surrounded by his volunteers), the fluttering 
silk banner at their head, bearing the old defiant motto: 
To Polskie.’ My weeping mother clasped me to her 
breast. I only saw her after that, — in black robes. Alas! 
It was prophetic! Ladislas Lazienski died at the head 
of his men in one of our useless victories, — the bravest 
of the brave! I mingled my childish tears with my wid- 
owed mother’s sobbing. When the cloud of Cossacks 
neared us, we all prepared for departure to our haven in 
France. There, old friends (unable to fight) awaited us. 
The last day in my old home, I can never forget. My 
two brothers, in cadet uniform, took leave of our mother. 
I childishly admired the trappings of the brave lads’ uni- 
forms. They kissed their ‘little sister’ a last ‘good-bye.’ 
As our carriage rolled away under the escort of a few 
old servants I sobbed bitterly. Those dear boys soon 
lay dead, in the ‘Silent Battery,’— where grim Mouravieff 
stormed the bloody outworks, where a division had been 
held a whole day at Warsaw, and stormed it, to find the 
boy defenders lying dead around their guns. I next re- 
member Paris, — where my girlhood was passed. There 
I was carefully reared by my saddened, delicate mother. 


FOE HER LIFE. 


361 


Poland became to me a dream ; my father’s and brothers’ 
names and faces soon were only sacred memories. In 
later years, — after the amnesty,— we two lonely women 
returned to the old home. There were no men of our 
race left. My mother temporarily enjoyed peace in the 
scene of her early happiness. Reared in a home made 
desolate by Russian warfare, I became a dreamy patriot. 
It was natural that in the flower of my beauty I loved 
Adam Oborski, who had been my brothers’ classmate 
and fellow soldier. His gallantry, his devotion to the 
memory of my dead relatives charmed me. Young, 
brave and accomplished was he. His only rival was 
Alexis Radzivill, the scoundrel who died by Serge Zas- 
trow’s hand. Radzivill was powerful. I despised his as- 
sociation with the Russian officers. I learned this aver- 
sion from my faithful mother, who never descended into 
the hall when the passing Russian officers were quartered 
on us. Radzivill swore revenge on me; he threatened 
to repay Adam Oborski! Our married life was very 
brief. I was still in a dream of young love when, at a 
public occasion, near our home, Radzivill grossly insulted 
my husband. A duel with pistols followed, — in which 
the foul spy fired long before the word ! He basely mur- 
dered Count Oborski! This sorrow nearly crazed me. 
It soon left me alone ifi the world. My dear and sainted 
mother sleeps in the old chapel of our home. Government 
espionage, and persecution followed. I traveled abroad 
for years. My only relative was old Count Branicki, — 
an uncle who had passed some peaceful years in Eng- 
land. With his books and science, he strove to forget his 
prostrate country’s wrongs. I remained some time with 
him. I thus gained the knowledge of the English lan- 
guage which I have. Back to Paris my weary wander- 
ings took me; and, tiring of society, I was entrapped 
and became a member of an order I will not name. My 
wealth and rank made me useful and above suspicion. 
My father had been a member of the ‘International.’ 
Being unused to intrigue, I was drawn into a fearful 
compact. Too soon did I find out the utter uselessness 
of the general movement. Bitterly did I regret my fatal 
rashness. My money only was what was vitally needed. 


362 


FOR HER LIFE. 


I soon tired of a scheme which aims to destroy all and 
build up nothing. There are inner ambitious minds who 
draw power, revenue and profit from the devotion of the 
blinded ones. High, vain passions are fed in the mys- 
terious, gloomy grandeur of the upper socialist ranks. 
Bakounin, Karl Marx, La Salle, and others have found 
counter-plot and hostile intrigues in their embittered 
councils. Devoted and romantic women, aspiring and 
unbalanced youths, abandon themselves to hideous 
fates, — to keep up an agitation which is a standing in- 
discriminate attack on civilization. The absolute useless- 
ness of secret society reform is shown in the final break- 
down of all the social and family relations and the depra- 
vation of perpetually excited intellects. No single posi- 
tive element of goodness enters into the highest creeds 
of pure socialism. This is, simply, perpetual revolution, 
—and, unproductive anarchy. My views of its uselessness 
became known. It was to perhaps silence my tongue 
(in a death for the cause), — (while keeping my large 
funds), — that I was selected to return to Russia. I was 
only to deliver certain papers, — when no ordinary trav- 
eler could hope to succeed. I did not know that Alexis 
Radzivill had followed closely my social career. His 
unsatiated passion made him still dog my fated steps. 
It was to be my one dangerous quest. Here I am! — a 
helpless prisoner! On being brought to bay here, Fate 
threw me across your path and, — you know the rest. I 
feared that my personality could not remain a secret! 
The generous hospitality of your friends forced me into 
scenes which I would otherwise have avoided. Even in 
high place, I was safe until Radzivill recognized me, — 
though we had not met for years. The revenge which 
caused him to harass my mother, and pursue me, was 
heightened by the scorn with which all honorable men 
regarded him after the murder of Count Oborski! He 
was not altogether sure of my identity even when he 
sought to force his way on my path, at the opera, — for I 
had changed my golden hair to a dark color before leav- 
ing for Russia. He was thus baffled, and a fortunate 
death sealed his lips! He evidently desired to get me in 
his own power once more! He did not give General 


FOR HER LIFE. 


363 


Haxo my real name. That was reserved for his own 
dark future purposes. The General would surely have 
used it against me on the trial. I am now on the thresh- 
old, perhaps, of my grave. You will find I have not for- 
gotten your kindness. To the heroic Serge, I give the 
never-failing gratitude due the man who avenged my 
murdered husband. Major Trepoff knows my sense of 
his manly devotion. To you, dear friend and brother, I 
can only say, I now make you the depositary of my se- 
crets, and charge you with some future labors. Should 
death befall me, all your circle will know how far patriot- 
ism may lead a lonely woman into strange paths. I see 
how my family sorrows have made me the tool of dark 
master-minds. As I have drawn a desperate lot once, 
should I live, or chance to escape, in my far-off land, I 
can then live in silence. My vows are now only those of 
silence. I deprecate assassination in any form, — and, never 
consented to it. Further revolution is useless in my be- 
loved land, and all my feeble efforts are all in vain. To 
Poland, I give my latest sigh and pray to God above 
there will be no more bloodshed. Russia must hold Po- 
land, or lose the gates to its fairest lands! I can not 
blame that policy of stern necessity, which now makes 
our national name, only a memory of happier days! 

“Dear and beloved friend, may you think kindly of 
me, if my name becomes a memory, and beyond what I 
have told you, no woman has been truer to herself than 
the one looking now out of prison windows, who signs 
herself — Yours in life and death, 

“Arline Oborska.” 

This, then, was the life story of Hermione! Her manu- 
script lay before me unheeded. I watched the blue smoke 
wreaths float away from my cigar, in dreamily thinking 
all her strange career over. The old story; — a young, 
ardent and lonely woman foolishly lured into the coun- 
cils of a secret order, which flattered her and coldly ab- 
sorbed her welcome funds to further its own dark de- 
signs! They played coldly upon her heart strings. Pa- 
triotism could not give way in her nature to assassina- 
tion! Plermione’s clear intellect was too subtle for the 


364 


FOR HER LIFE. 


knaves who would continually hoodwink her! She had 
seen the Veiled Prophet of Nihilism in all its hideous 
monstrosity, and she would not be Mokanna’s bride! She 
had a country, — and they had none! I pitied the 
gentle dupe. I felt but one pathway led out 
of all this. Hermione must be rescued, in time, 
from Russian severity. She must be placed far be- 
yond the immediate reach of any dangerous nihilistic 
orders. America must be her final abiding place, — if she 
should ever gain her freedom —for there, the rose of her 
life would bloom again! Securing all the papers, I 
awaited my friend Trepoff’s return. Serge was still ab- 
sent. I was dreaming of the story of the old wrongs of 
Poland,- — of its bitter fate as a doomed nation, — when 
Dimitri entered. Briefly he recounted his interview with 
the lady. When he had finished, he said: 

“Grahame, I have a permit from Count Tolstoi for 
you, as a lawyer, to see Hermione! Go to-morrow and 
find out all she wishes! Then, you and I can make ev- 
ery final arrangement. I would work for her pardon 
now, but I fear General Haxo’s continued wrath, tie is 
capable of anything. While I do not fear him person- 
ally, I will not draw his later vengeance down on Her- 
mione.” He regarded me with anxiety, and handed me 
a brief note from our lovely captive. I tore it open. She 
authorized me now to impart her story to the three ladies, 
— and then begged to see me at once, if I could succeed 
in gaining that grace. 

“Trepoff,” said I, gravely, “I have read that woman’s 
life. She is right! You must carefully conceal your 
feelings for her, or it will ruin you both. Be always on 
your guard! Make no further attempt to agitate her 
case now! It would only expose you to distrust! But 
stay with her to the very last! Convey her safely to 
Governor General Mouravieff at Irkutsk! Leave this town 
with her as soon as you can! I will watch over her! We 
all can work for her freedom. She is worthy of you, 
Dimitri!” — I laid my hand on his shoulder. He sprang 
up, and cried: 

“I will guard her with my life! And you know her 
story?” — his eyes were sparkling. 


FOR HER LIFE. 


365 


“I do. She must be saved,” was my response. “Trust 
her, — trust me,- — and trust to Father Time! You will be 
wise and successful, only, — if you follow her wishes.” 

Our colloquy was broken by the return of the jubilant 
Serge, who had in his hand a telegram from General 
Komaroff. He would arrive in two days, from War- 
saw, and he gracefully consented to an immediate wed- 
ding- The three ladies, at the Moika, were all in happy 
activity. Count Mouravieff had charged himself with all 
friendly matters, — desiring to relieve Trepoff, who would 
simply be the best man at the nuptials. His injunction 
to Serge was to ignore the duel, and make no complaint. 
Thus acting, he would avoid irritating the sufficiently 
humbled Haxo. Serge had obtained a leave of two 
months. My party would follow the happy couple down 
to Warsaw; — they would prevent any police trouble for 
me. The pathway was now clear at last. No three hap- 
pier men were within the lines of the Winter City than 
ourselves ; — for, I saw a clear road back to Philadelphia, 
and my record was now a proud and manly one. 

I hastened to the Admiralty Quai, spending my day 
in closing up all my business matters. I arranged, with 
the help of my local counsellor, — a good Russian lawyer, 
— the final plan of carrying on the affairs of my clients 
in the land of Penn. 

I charged my own gentle Madeleine with the instant 
duty of making an appointment for a conference for the 
evening. I arranged this so that with the two Komaroff 
ladies, on the Moika, my own tender and forgiving sister 
would now know the whole story of our beautiful wan- 
derer. 

Major Trepoff, now all-powerful, obtained the return 
of all ITermione's valuables. He was busied in remov- 
ing all her entire property to his residence, so that now 
only the memory of her graceful presence hung over the 
old family home, from whence she had been taken as a 
prisoner, in the name of the Czar. There was not a sign 
of hostility from the humbled Haxo! General Zastrow 
appreciated the delicacy of all these arrangements, which 
would leave his household untouched by any future scan- 
dal. Her influence seemed to linger; — we could find no 


366 


FOR HER LIFE. 


other topic but her affairs, save our impending departure 
and the wedding of Vera. This last was to be celebrated 
at the Church of the Chevalier Gardes Regiment. It 
would occur as soon as the inner circle of the nobility 
could be summoned, — after General Komaroff’s arrival. 

I dispatched word by Major Trepoff that I would be at 
the prison on the morrow. I asked Hermione to prepare 
all her wishes. The first happy dinner since our visit 
from the “Secret Section” harpies, was at last over! And 
I was on the eve of a welcomed departure! I felt my 
heart bounding within me. I drove with Madeleine to 
the Moika. We were welcomed by the ladies, who were 
eager to know who the Waif of Fortune really was, for 
whom we all had labored with such unanimity. 

I thought, as we sped along over the sparkling snows, 
that Countess Mouravieff had a sacred right also to know 
this history. I knew that Serge would know all from 
Trepoff, — in time. The powerful interest of the Moura- 
vieffs could only be exerted through the Countess, with- 
out publicly complicating the ex-Dictator. And, — Haxo 
must be foiled and muzzled as long as Hermione was a 
prisoner. So, the four ladies listened, as I read, deliber- 
ately, the sad story! Happy Vera’s eyes were very tender 
when I ceased! I felt Madeleine’s hand press mine, in 
sympathy, and mute acknowledgment of a loving 
forgiveness. Princess Komaroff, with flashing eyes, 
cried: 

“It is a curse of Fate that Russia must obliterate the 
gallant old Polish families! No wonder every Pole hates 
the Russian, — who has so cruelly drowned the children 
in their father’s blood. But, it is the inexorable mandate 
of Fate!” Countess Mouravieff was very grave! An 
ambassadress herself for years, — she knew how the pres- 
sure of the strong crushes out all humanity from inter- 
national policy! A very Russian of the Russians, — the 
able lady saw that the drawn sword must always guard 
the gates of Russia! — and, Poland must be crushed, to 
make Russia invulnerable! 

“My dear sir!” she slowly said, “I will give you a 
letter for the Countess Oborska. I also desire you to ask 
Major Trepoff to be good enough to see me at once, 


FOR HER LIFE. 


367 


alone. I shall now do all that I can for this unfortunate 
lady. I beg you to urge her to send me her simple word 
of honor that her future connection with the ‘order’ will 
be confined to assuring her own safety. She must quit 
them forever, for, she would be known now to every Rus- 
sian agent in the world. We have them, secret and open, 
everywhere!” There was a slight smile on her delicate 
lips as she concluded. I understood that she would dis- 
arm the bright Falcon forever. It was only right! While 
I assured her of the execution of her wishes, the other 
ladies were preparing to write to Hermione, the impul- 
sive Vera being, as usual, far in the lead. 

When we regained the Admiralty Quai, late that night, 
I was the possessor of the tender sympathies of the ladies, 
expressed in their own words. Vera was reminded by 
me, that only her wedding would delay my departure. 

“There will be no undue delay,” she smiled; “for Serge 
is simply unbearable!” Rosy blushes were on the cheeks 
of the bright little Princess, who protested that only a 
regard for Serge’s lifelong friendship for Trepoff could 
alone make her consent to such haste. For the imme- 
diate departure of Hermione was the keynote of our 
whole plans. Her happy heart was filled with triumph 
and anticipation of the coming years as Serge’s wife! It 
was one of the golden marriages, — a union of kindred 
souls! 


Once more I entered the frowning arch of the gray 
fortress. The gallant Brigade Major hospitably received 
me: he insisted that when my business was concluded 
I should accept the hospitality of his quarters. This I 
cheerfully promised. I was soon walking down the stone 
corrider with the old warder, joyously gazing at a 
hundred-rouble bill, which had somehow found its way 
into his hand. The door was opened. I waited till Mad- 
ame Durand appeared. The devoted woman was in rap- 
tures over our success. I entered the casemate and 
sprang down the well-remembered corridor to the open 
door. Hermione advanced; her lustrous eyes beaming 
with the warmest feelings of a grateful heart; — and I 


368 


FOR HER LIFE. 


could see the springing dawn of Hope in her flashing 
eyes! 

“At last! my friend!” said she, shyly, motioning me 
to a seat. I noted the strangely-restrained softness of her 
manner. The soaring Falcon had found a master! — and 
her plumage was smoothed by the hand of Love! In 
kissing her fair hands and briefly giving her the general 
report of our circle, — I soon found time to hand her the 
letters of the ladies. I watched her bosom rise and fall, 
as she turned her glances on me, in a new joy! When 
she had finished their perusal, glittering tears of thank- 
ful happiness were clinging like diamonds on her lashes. 

“I will send answers to these dear, noble friends, whose 
words you have brought, by Major Trepoff, to-morrow! 
I would send them my whole heart, if I could! I have 
learned to know the Russian heart, the fire under the 
snow!” 

“Is it yours to send now, Countess Arline?” said I. 
She started at my address, — and then, suddenly dropped 
her eyes. 

“You know my whole story now !” I bowed my head. 

“What has Dimitri told you?” said she, with a smile 
which was radiant. I referred, generally, to his disclos- 
ure. 

“You shall know all!” cried Hermione, as she told me 
of her love in a freedom which even the anxious lover 
did not yet dare to hope for. 

“I will not weigh him down until he has finished his 
quest for the noble Empress! Other suffering women 
are languishing now' in that far land. I shall see them! 
I shall be one of them ! I will not interrupt their possible 
relief. But when all is over, I will (if I live to be free) 
testify to Dimitri Trepoff wEat a woman’s love can be 
for him.” And all the promise of the future was thrilling 
in her tender eyes. I approved her quiet fortitude, as 
the whole circle might yet be involved. I reminded her 
of General Haxo’s sleepless hate ; — for we were watching 
him daily. Spy for spy! 

“I know all,” said she. “Now, listen!” — in her old 
imperious way — “I know that Serge and Vera will marry 
soon, — that you will leave Russia with them. Give to 


FOR HER LIFE. 


369 


tlisetii all my love and devotion. Vera will not forget me! 
I will write your noble sisters, and all the circle. I have 
here a letter from Countess Mouravieff, which tells me 
who is to be niy se'cret friend at Irkutsk. 1 feel safe 
now! — she paused, — I could well guess who that friend 
was! A woman’s hand would save her, for women rule 
Russia from the frozen sea to the vine-clad Crimea, — 
from Eydtkuhnen to Vladivostock, on the far blue Pa- 
cific! It is the Woman’s kingdom! “When you go to 
Warsaw,” she continued, “I want you to take your dear 
ones to illy old castle near Cracow. Your welcome there 
will be assured. Dimitri” (she smiled) “will forward 
at once a letter to illy banker in Vienna. Here is a paper 
prepared for you, which you can discuss with him after 
his return. Read it only when out of Russia. I will llot 
have even one friend here know of my plans — last of all. 
Dimitri Trepoff. His honor shall be safe in my hands! 
I will take Durand with me. She is free, and can work 
with our friends there. I shall strive for my liberty. 
Once free, 1 am absolved, forever, from further active co- 
operation with the order! I shall find friends, if I live. 
My fight is now for freedom, not pardon. You must 
guard my secret. I will riot call on Trepoff. He must 
not be ruined; he must keep his faith! My banker has 
faithful correspondents and agents on the west coast ol 
America. We have tested them before. I will know 
of your whereabouts from him. You will hear from me. 

I will contrive the means!” 

Her bosom was heaving; her eyes sparkling. It was a 
fight for life and love now! — not mere existence; for a 
new lord sat on her bosom’s throne! “You will come 
and say ‘Good-bye’ before you go. Dimitri can arrange 
that. I ask you to keep in regular correspondence with 
my banker. Give him always your movements. He will 
have help and means to aid you. I depend on you ut- 
terly, if you are alive, and I am preserved to need your 
help. Now, tell me of yourself, and all your plans.” I 
now laid before her the visions of my own happy future 
life as I saw it flowing down the coming years. And 
Hermione joyed with me. It was hours before we fin- 
ished our long final arrangements. Every Contingency 

24 


370 


FOR HER LIFE. 


was discussed. I was astonished at the intimate knowl- 
edge of every detail of the Siberian life and regime 
which she exhibited. Her own high sources, Trepoff, 
and the able Durand, had given her every detail; but 
she had a great store of knowledge of her own. Her 
dark companions! I was now at the limit of my visit. 
Her banker and I would settle every future detail. The 
ardent woman longed for the day to commence the 
Asian voyage. I knew that her pathway would be made 
smooth by love; and the parting moment came too soon. 
I rose to go as the evening shadows gathered. As I 
kissed her lovely hands in “ Good-bye,” I promised her, 
sacredly, the fulfillment of all her wishes. It was with a 
loving glance of womanly devotion she threw her arms 
around me, frankly kissing me, as she whispered, “My 
brother now!” I knew of a verity that gallant Dimitri 
Trepoff had won a rich return to the love which filled his 
whole existence now. A half-hour with the hospitable 
Brigade Major followed. I learned that General Obran- 
ovitch had been relieved as President of the Summary 
Court, and ordered away to Warsaw. And this was a 
welcome relief! I had charged the faithful Durand to 
come and see my sisters; for now she could freely enter 
and depart, and bear all our messages. Soon the twink- 
ling lights of the fort were far behind me, and the sleigh 
dashed over the frozen Neva, through the now throng- 
ing settlement on its surface. I was happy at last; for I 
felt a confidence in Hermione’s secret resources. The 
obligatory devotion of her powerful friends in the mys- 
terious order was also hers. And then, freedom forever 
from all chains! As I lifted my thankful eyes to the 
glittering stars, twinkling quietly down on the scenes 
of my adventures, I thanked God it was well with me 
at the last. I had crowded much experience into a few 
weeks ; and so I was content now to turn my steps home- 
ward. Past the place where the now-silent spy had been 
strangled I dashed on to meet my friends over the cheer- 
ful table. All was merry animation. The arrival of Gov- 
ernor General Komaroff was expected in a few hours. 
Serge Zastrow was only approachable on one subject — 
the wedding, which was to occur in three days. 


FOR HER LIFE. 


371 


Dimitri Trepoff was joyous and alert. He had seen 
Madame Mouravieff, who, by common consent, was del- 
egated to tell him all the ladies knew Hermione’s story, 
and looked forward to her future happiness. With us all 
busied in our varied preparations, time's feet flew; for 
the happy day arrived. I had visited the soldierly Prince 
Komaroff. He welcomed me warmly, and I duly in- 
formed Madame Mouravieff that Hermione was hence- 
forth neutral, and would abandon all her dangerous as- 
sociation forever. It were idle to tell of the thousand 
details of the happy marriage of Serge and the sweet 
Vera. Hermione had already sent her letters to all the 
ladies, which testified her gratitude; for Durand was a 
busy woman in quieting the secret brotherhood for- 
ever. As members of the family, we were all permitted 
to be present at the mansion on the Moika in the morn- 
ing. Two hours before the wedding, the lovely bride, 
arrayed in superb robes, received the formal visit of the 
pere d’honneur and mere d'honneur, with her parents 
and family as witnesses. The golden-jeweled crucifix 
and gold salver with bread and salt, were presented, 
on behalf of the sponsors, as typical of the Greek faith, 
and of the coming dignity of the young matron. From 
the Church of the Guard Regiment, soon came Dimitri 
Trepoff, as best man, in glorious panoply and wedding 
favors, to notify the bride that the groom awaited her at 
the church. Through the grand salons, filled with su- 
perb presents and the offerings of a circle which adored 
Vera, in stately cortege, we descended. The sponsors 
led the way; the bride followed, with the radiant grooms- 
man. The princely parents then headed the family; 
and merrily did the steeds prance through the crowded 
streets, till, at the grand entrance of the church, we de- 
scended. The noble Dimitri conducted the happy bride 
to the magnificent altar, where her ardent lover, in the 
garb of his profession, awaited her there before the jew- 
eled shrine. Passing down through the splendid temple, 
hung with its tattered banners and relics of the departed 
brave, the great high canopied altar was reached. Right 
and left were ranged all the proudest nobles and beauties 
of St. Petersburg. They closed in after us in a glittering 


372 


FOR HER LIFE. 


circle, as the superb church Was Without seats, like all 
temples of the Greek faith. A burst of angelic music 
from the male choir broke the silence; the white-robed 
and bearded priests knelt before the superbly decorated 
altar, encrusted with gold* silver and gems. In the one 
great gallery, all the younger officers of Serge Zastrow’s 
fleet were stationed in a body: Their commanders were 
conspicuous iii the circle of princes, generals, diplomats 
and nobles below. The sponsors stood directly behind 
the radiant bride and groom. The family were gath- 
ered in a circle immediately in rear of them. At the 
side of the peerless bride and noble-looking groom were 
the best men, holding the two golden crowns over the 
lovers now to be joined soon by the apostolic blessing. 
A flood of getttle melody stole through the splendid old 
fane. The alternation of the chanting of the Lord’s 
Prayer by the boy sopranos, with the ringing responses 
of the men, Was thrillingly sweet. The interesting and 
solemn service was heightened by the deep bass intoning 
of the bearded priests, awful in its rich impressiveness. 
The honor of holding the crown in air for an hour and 
a half over each head was divided by several of the 
“jeurtesse doree” Of the near friends, wearied not in well- 
doing, as they gazed on the lovely bride in her white- 
silken robes. Matrimony is said to be imminent when a 
young Russian accepts that friendly distinction! In the 
open doors of the church, bearded sailor and genial 
burgher crowded* a recognition of an orthodoxy never 
denied. Around the altar, three times, then marched 
the neW couple. Marty smiles were furtively exchanged 
by the assembled ladies, as, in kneeling for the nuptial 
benediction, Vera’s light foot touched the praying carpet 
first. “She Would rule the household,” according to the 
old proverb. And, Serge’s generous strategy was ob- 
served in this! Now the rings were exchanged. In a 
sonorous voice the final blessing was said. A grand 
burst of melody rang out, and, to its triumphant strains, 
the happy officer and his wife passed down through the 
glittering throng. Here flashing diamonds, glittering 
orders, splendid uniforms, and superb dress adorned 
the flower of the local notables. Hundreds of carriages, 


FOR HER LIFE. 


373 


whirling away now, sought the grand entrance of the 
Mouravjeff mansion. The family party, headed by the 
happy pair, received, through the sponsors, the heartfelt 
congratulations of their crowding friends. Vera was in- 
imitable in her spirited and youthful beauty. Dimitri 
Trepoff, the social lion, presented fair damsels and 
blooming beauties, who little thought his wished-for 
bride vyas immured now m the gloomy vaults of the star 
fort. Put Arline Qborska’s eyes were fixed on the star 
of hope! At dinner, a royal board was set for fifty. The 
Opulence of the east and unrivalled beauty of Russian 
plate made the feast a Sardanapalian splendor. I could 
only close my eyes and dream of the days of Rurik. 
Nothing merrier in the world than a Muscovite wedding 
feast. On these occasions, old Boyar customs reign su- 
preme. High rose the merriment; the health of the Czar 
and Czarina was drank standing; soft music floated on 
the air from a concealed orchestra. The ‘‘health of the 
bride” brought Dimitri Trepoff to his feet. As every 
glass was raised, laughing cries of “Bitter! Bitter!” were 
heard. Our joyous new-made husband was then forced 
to kiss his wife each tinie the cry was raised, until the 
blushing Vera drained her glass to gain a respite. The 
old custom was then powerless, till a new merry chal- 
lenge. In happiness and gayest expansion of spirits, the 
whole party sought their carriages. In a triumphal pro- 
cession we escorted the departing couple to the Moscow 
station. I followed, thinking of the prisoner’s adieu. 
Arrived there, where a special train awaited the distin- 
guished pair, champagne was served to all the party. 
To the music of loving “Good-byes” the happy lovers 
departed for Warsaw direct. 

Sp, sweet, darling Vera had at last joined the Navy! 
It was with heartfelt emotion I hade them both “adieu,” 
to meet again at Warsaw. Vera unclasped a magnificent 
diamond necklace, which she wore at the reception and 
dinner, and showed me engraved on the clasp the words, 
“Hermione to Vera.” Dimitri had given it to the sweet 
bride, with a letter which touched \iev young heart, on 
behalf of the loving prisoner. For the falcon, even with 
clipped wings, had yet her magician in the faithful Du- 


374 


FOR HER LIFE. 


rand. “Tell her,” said the happy girl wife, “I shall never 
part with it. I will think of her in love and fond remem- 
brance till we meet once more.” And her eyes were 
sweet in prophecy as they rested on Trepoff. Two days 
more and we were to leave Petersburg, perhaps forever! 
We were to take the same evening train and accompany 
Prince and Princess Komaroff to Warsaw. It was the 
wish of Count Mouravieff to have Dimitri Trepoff leave 
quietly with his charge on the afternoon before our de- 
parture. The presence of General Komaroff and the 
powerful Princess would aid in ensuring silence from the 
spies of Haxo. Dimitri Trepoff was at last all ready. 
He had only to take leave of the lovely Empress and re- 
ceive Count Mouravieff’s last counsels. His outfit was 
ready. His faithful old orderly, his valet, a young officer 
as secretary, with Hermione and her maid, would be the 
party. At each principal station, he would be able to 
use all the local official facilities. It was his wish to 
safely place Hermione, as soon as possible, at Irkutsk, 
where she would be personally in charge of the Gov- 
ernor General Mouravieff, and after that a powerful arm 
would secretly shield her. These things were all talked 
over as we drove to his house. It was almost a home 
to me now, after leaving Justine and Madeleine at the 
family mansion. Vera had given him personal gifts, and 
a loving letter for Hermione, with her own picture, ex- 
acting a promise of a return. 

We were soon at ease, in his sanctum. The next day 
would be his last, for six months, at home. His menage 
was in thorough order, as frequent long inspections were 
his duties. 

His going was a secret from all. He had already the 
imperial messenger passport. He also received extraor- 
dinary orders for double-team post sleighs, after he had 
left the 2,000-mile railway. His route lay via Moscow 
and Perm, to the Urals, into Asia as far as Tiumen. 
Here the sleigh journey would begin. 

“How strange, Grahame,” said the wearied Major, 
“how rapidly events crowd on us! In thirty days, if 
nothing intervenes, we will be at Irkutsk, on Lake Bai- 
kal. Our Hermione will be really an inmate of the Gov- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


375 


ernor General’s family, although nominally, a deportee. 
“How is that?” I cried, in astonishment “Oh! that is 
some of Countess Mouravieff’s magic. Governor Gen- 
eral Mouravieff’s wife will at once ask her to act as in- 
structress of her little daughter in music. This takes her 
out of police custody. This employment is common 
with both the superior convicts and the deported people 
of rank. That station will close the eyes of the curious. 
She will be jealously guarded thus from every harm. I 
wonder every day more and more at the Countess’ easy 
sway of all things. She has directed me to bring Her- 
mione to her, day after to-morrow morning. It will be 
done secretly after we leave the prison and I have re- 
ceipted for her as my prisoner. My special train will 
start at two in the afternoon. We will then run directly 
past Moscow, only stopping a few moments for change 
of engines. So, Haxo’s spies will be baffled. Madame 
Mouravieff desires the presence of your sister Madeleine, 
and will go herself to the station with Hermione. In this 
way, no curious spying can annoy me as the Czarina’s 
envoy. No one will suspect who she is; and, none dare 
to molest me !” he said, with flashing eyes. On the mor- 
row I closed up all my own affairs. I notified Hermione, 
through Dimitri, that I, too, would see her at the Moika 
mansion. Dimitri and I had the will witnessed. I would 
be able to deposit it with her banker, a powerful Vien- 
nese finance baron, a name known wherever the coined 
red gold rings in trade, or a sail glitters on the seas of 
commerce. Dimitri and our whole circle were to dine 
with General Zastrow, for his house was now inviolable. 
Telegrams from the happy Serge and Vera announced 
their safe arrival at Moscow. Trepoff passed a portion 
of the last day at the fortress. He easily arranged with 
General Davidoff to take his charge away next day, with 
no formality. In this he was greatly aided by the gallant 
Brigade Major, who divined the blossoming prison ro- 
mance, and he scented the mysterious protecting influ- 
ence now shielding the graceful head of the unknown. 

A note from Hermione forwarded me a cipher, of 
which I was to permit her banker, personally, to take a 
copy. I was directed to permit no one but him to know 


376 FOR HER LIFE. 

of its existence. It was under seal, apd not even to be 
opened in Russia. It contained all her future hopes of 
freedom hidden on its filmy sheets. Trepoff informed 
me that he would forward us telegrams from the princi- 
pal places to the Vienna address for me. He also prom- 
ised a full dispatch from Irkutsk, as he had now the right 
to use the superb government telegraphic service un- 
questioned. At every pqst and city on the great high 
road to the Pacific is a working office with operators, 
speaking Russian, French, English, and German. Such 
is Russian foresight, one-f^b of the official business 
being transacted on the magic wire — a preparation for 
that future extension which will astonish the world. I 
called ip the early afternoon to pay my respepts tq our 
powerful ally, the noble Count Mouravieff. His pru- 
dent consort did not wish him to be exposed to the awk- 
wardness of another meeting with Hermione. It was 
to me a “Good-bye’' to one of the most remarkable men 
of the age. And his copsprt wished him to be innocent 
while she amicably hoodwinked him ! Seated in his 
“cabinet de travail,” the world-worn nqble received me 
graciously. I thanked him for his friendly offices, and 
great kindnesses to the imprisoned woipan. 

“Say no more, my dear sir. I regret all your trqubles 
here,” was his easy reply. “But, your sympathy led you 
into a false position. You vdh> I hope, remember that 
you have met warm friends as well as meddlesome offi- 
cials. It is a lesson tp other heedless strangers. It 
shows hpw effective are our sources of information as tp 
all sojourners. Our great land is misunderstood by the 
outer world. We are aware of that,” said he, with a 
pynical smile, “and we profit, nationally, by it. The Rus- 
sian policy, my dear Colonel, js neither to permit any 
dangerous foreign influence, nop to regard apy trifling 
external criticism or detraction. We are a defiant and 
an easy-going people, secure in our power. I am sorry 
for your lady friend — a gifted, wayward, drifting human 
soul, I suppose,” he continued, smiling. “Most of the 
actipns pf women are without the slightest regard to rea- 
son or consequences. In that lies one great charm of the 
sex! I will see, however, that no personal indignity 


FOR HER LIFE. 


377 


falls on your strange waif in her exile. Time rilay trill g 
her a pardon; and, I hope, greater prudence in her future 
adventures.’ With every pleasant expression, he ac- 
knowledged my adieu, remarking, "We may meet 
again; the World is very small nowadays; so, ati revoir. 
The whole World are globe-trotters now!’* I joyously 
regained, my abode. Our last evening together was a 
happy one. Madame Zastrow was the recipient of a 
beautiful antique bracelet from Hermioiie, With the sim- 
ple note’, “This bracelet was my beloved mother’s! Ac- 
cept it from your mysterious guest. Farewell, and for- 
give me! Heriffione.” 

Morning came. The day of otir departure Was, at last, 
peacefully downing. Dimitri’s military promptness had 
covered all his preparations. At nine o’clock lie left me 
to conduct the saddened Siberian voyager to the kindly 
welcoming shelter of Countess Mouravieff on the Moika. 
It was nobly clone. To let a sister woman feel that the 
long journey would commence from a friend’s house, 
even if it was a trip “by order” — “in the name of the 
Czar!” Thanks to her, it would, perhaps, end happily 
under a roof, graced by a member of the same princely 
family. I removed all my belongings to the Zastrow 
mansion. I devoutly blessed the hospitable soldier’s 
home in leaving it; for I had found noble friends there. 
Soon my owi1 beloved Madeleine was with me. We 
joined Countess Mouravieff and the Princess Komaroff 
in the boudoir of that lady’s splendid home. The Count 
Was atvay at the Council; Governor General Komaroff 
was also with him oil “affairs of State.” Ail hour passed 
away. The maitre d’hotel announced Major Dimitri 
'Trepoff. Madame Mouravieff turned to me with her 
ready wit. “My friend, I shall trust to you to occupy 
the Major while we ladies receive his companion. I Wifi 
give you, however, a private opportunity to confer for 
the last time with Madame, before their departure.” She 
would not complicate the gallant guardian officially! It 
was but a feW moments when the great lady, at the door 
of her boudoir, received the fur-clad and deeply veiled 
Hermione. Drawing the Major into an anteroom, we 
then proceeded to our final confidential conference. I 


378 


FOR HER LIFE. 


had learned to love the gifted, generous, and manly 
soldier with the affection of a brother. I was loath to 
leave him. Still, it was for Hermione’s sake! Allons! I 
loved them both! When, in an hour, the luncheon was 
announced, we then entered, and, with consummate tact, 
Madame la Chatelaine ignored the parting. I kissed 
Hermione’s hand in silence. I read in her smile of peace 
and the face of my dear sister that the two foes were fast 
becoming friends! Traces of tears lingered on all the 
ladies’ faces; but our little coterie became a cheerful one. 
Time was flying, and Countess Mouravieff said to her 
guests, now ready for the parting: “Major Trepoff, I 
will drive to the station with your friend. You can trust 
me! The other ladies will stay here. Mr. Grahame 
will remain till you have your party all in readiness. We 
will then drive around the city until five minutes of two, 
when you can meet us at the station entrance. Leave 
your own valet on watch at the door.” It was forward 
now, with God’s blessing. 

Dimitri arose and took his leave of . all the ladies. He 
was now our chosen knight errant. Madeleine thanked 
him for his brotherly kindness. The parting was as 
friendly as his unselfish services to us all demanded. He 
whispered to me as he wrung my hands, “I will tele- 
graph you to Vienna, and then to New York, or the Pa- 
cific, as you may notify me of your address through 
Hermione’s banker.” He was gone at last — gone with 
the heartfelt “godspeeds” of all of us! Countess Moura- 
vieff led the party into the boudoir; then she retired 
with Madeleine and Princess Komaroff. Her delicacy 
in taking the dangerous Arline Oborska alone to the sta- 
tion with her, showed all the thoughtful refinement of 
her womanly sympathy. Muffled and veiled, in the 
fleecy Russian wraps, no one could tell who Madame 
Mouravieff ’s companion was. 

I was now left alone with our lovely and high-hearted 
protegee. It was the parting moment. In her eyes shone 
a steady light of contented resolution. She mercifully 
made that parting brief. “Go now to my old home! 
Think of me when there!” she said, with tear-gemmed 
eyes. “Place a wreath of flowers on the tomb of the 


FOR HER LIFE* 


379 


dear ones whom the mad whirl of hopeless revolution 
carried out of this sad world! You will know, my dear 
brother, when you are at Vienna, that Arline Oborska, 
born free, will either die or attain once more her liberty ! 
I shall see you some day in America! How and when I 
will escape I cannot tell, but 1 am fated to be a bird of 
passage. I will greet you next summer in your lovely 
Western land! America, to-day, is free from coast to 
coast; and I shall be a dweller in your gates! I have no 
country now! There is no longer a Poland! America 
shall be my home, if I live to reach it! Now, promise 
me, my friend and brother, that you will not let Dimitri 
ruin himself for my sake, in any mad schemes for my 
release! I want him to be untouched by any shade on 
his official loyalty !” I bowed my head. 

Countess Mouravieff now tapped at the door. “Al- 
lons! ma cherc!” was her silvery summons, the signal 
to begin the long journey of expiation, “in the name of 
the Czar;” “for who breaks, pays!” is the surest rule of 
life. Hermione’s fair head lay now on my bosom; her 
kisses were on my lips, and her thrilling voice mur- 
mured, “We shall meet again! Never forget your wan- 
dering sister!” Countess Mouravieff led her silently 
from the room. The two ladies mingled their farewell 
tears with those of the sorrowing voyager. Down the 
stairway, sustained by the great-hearted Countess, “the 
star of Poland” passed from our sight! Lingering on 
the landing, she threw back one last look of grateful af- 
fection to our little group of three. In a few moments, 
from the windows, we saw the splendid sleigh of the 
Countess dash over the Moika bridge. A little hand, 
with a fluttering handkerchief, was extended. I knew, 
then, that her lovely eyes were turned toward us, in fond 
adieu. She was gone! And I found myself in a mist 
which veiled the splendid salon. In an hour, Madame 
Mouravieff returned. We were waiting there a group 
of eager listeners. It satisfied us to know that, after a 
tour on the principal drives, Hermione left the arms of 
her spirited protectress; stepping unnoted into the train, 
at the car door, where Major Trepoff waited. Her de- 
voted woman companion received her as soon as the 


380 


FOR HER LIFE. 


Major could littfer his last thanks, and final greetings to 
us all. Then the special train sped away, preceding all 
other traffic, bearing her far awdy from plotting revenge 
and all spying eyes. Rdpidly returning to our home, 
on the Admiralty quai, all was in readiness for oiir de- 
parture on the evehing train. 

The last diiiner was ohe of thankful relifef. When it 
was over, all having been dlspatbhed, we made a final 
pilgrimage Of friendly respefct in passing the residence 
of Cbuht Moitravieff, where the Komaroffs awaited lis. 
And I recognized the kindhess of Haxb in several flit- 
ting pursuing spies. The bid chieftain’s adieu to my 
two sisters was touching. lie promised us to watch 
over the future of our dear Justine when we were 
by the calm shores of the Schuylkill; fdr Justine must 
linger in the tranquil happiness of her country home. 
The Countess accompanied us to the station. Oifr train 
soon rolled out of tile great depot. Madfeleiiie Was now 
in loud lamentation for the new friendships too quickly 
parted; but I watched from the car the graceful figure 
of the nOble-hearted Countess Mohravleff as long as I 
could see her waving signal. And with a sigll of relief 
I sank back as the train dashed off at full speed. I had 
seen mv Russian efifcmies for the last time, ahd lost ilie 
high-hearted woman friend. True, warhi-llearted, and 
devoted, hospitable and alive to every call of kindness, 
Sympathetic and emotional, the Russian lady of rank is 
a rose blooming in the lonely northern snows! Years 
can never efface the emotions with which I saw the great 
Babel disappear, in its winter mantle Of darkness. But 
I left a tribute of sighs upon the altar of a royal hos- 
pitality. . The sparkling towri lights at last dropped down 
out of sight; and I breathed freer with every turrt of tile 
wheels. Only the beating of the flying wheels, only the 
wild sighing of the night winds through the lonely birch 
forests, sounded now on our ears! Fatigued with ex- 
citement, our heads were soon upon our'pillows. The 
Paris oi the north wds but a memory now; its fierce 
alternations of throbbing social life current powerless to 
rack our hearts again. And would ever I retiirn to drink 
of the waters Of the Neva? En route again! The real 


FOR HER LIFE. 


381 


traveler finds a cheering stimulus in the rushing pano- 
rama of natural life; for, all merely human elements 
speak of struggle and unrest. Nature alone gives us 
peace! Nothing so renewing to worn heart and jaded 
brain as the calm tranquillity of the unviolated solitudes 
of Mother Earth! Morifing brought us to Moscow. We 
were there received by the official friends of our charm- 
ing fellow-traveler, the clear-eyed and experienced 
Prince Komaroff, adroitly steering his official bark, with 
a practiced hand, secure in his high lineage from mean 
intrigue. Komaroff was a solid pillar of the throne. 
An epicurean sage and bon vivant, he mocked at life. 
The world was to his practiced eye only a kaleidescope 
of changing puppet plays. Two charming days were 
passed in the old capital, where the star of the great Na- 
poleon, set in Russian snows and shame, first perched on 
the eagles of France, as he fled Qut of the land of doom. 
From Kazan (the first day), from Orenburg (the sec- 
ond), now came telegraphic reports and greetings from 
jVfajor Trepoff. The ladies were in raptures to know 
that all was well with the pilgrims of love. Three more 
days would firing them to Tiumen. The romantic voy- 
age tq Irkutsk would begin, over niQor and through 
jyiid fprest steppes. 

Prince Komaroff was much interested in Hermiqne. 
Evidently the cynical Mpuravieff had told him the situ- 
ation pjf the during apd splendid woman, who had ven- 
tured into the jaws ,of death. Our little coterie, after din- 
ner, at \yarsaw, was enlivened by the brilliant Komar - 
p-ff.S sallies, “\yomen!” he mused. “Strange, foolish, 
jncpnsequent children of caprice! Self-devotion, pique, 
curiosity, apd a general capacity for absolute martyr- 
dom leads them to the scaffold or obscure prison vaults. 
Revenge fpf a loyer punished, some flood of emotional 
sympathy, makes the Russian woman as a modern Zen- 
pfiia. Not unbalanced enthusiasts like Jpan of Arc or 
Cfiarlptte .Corday, your Russian dpyojtpe of revolution is 
never a coarse, brutal wrangler like Louise Michel, that 
uncontrolled firebrand. Wpmen such as Vera Sassu- 
litch, Sophia Perovska, and many others abjured gilded 
luxury to commit the most daring deeds. It is a strange 


382 


FOR HER LIFE. 


fascination, this juggling with life! They are all ner- 
vously excited by our political repression. Their minds 
are filled with a sentimental self-martyrdom. “Grahame,” 
said he, as he puffed his cigarette and enjoyed his pousse 
cafe, “your lovely friend seems to be but a new phase 
of the woman revolutionist. Evidently, a superior na- 
ture, drawn by fate, into a current she could not resist!” 
“Mon Prince! you are right,” said I; “but I will not talk 
Russian revolution, even with you! I am astonished to 
see how far from their proper places Russian revolution 
pushes these daughters of Eve! The men conspirators 
are usually gloomy, dull, gloating fanatics; but your des- 
perate women are creatures of fire and flame!” “Per- 
fectly true!” said the Prince, with a quiet smile. “You 
remember, my dear boy, what Goethe says: 

‘When in the devil’s dance we tread. 

Woman’s a thousand steps ahead.’ ” 

Tired of wandering over palaces and the many 
churches, weary of threading the bazaars and shops, it 
was a relief to our party when we retook the road. 
Swiftly did we flit along, over the plains where the Rus- 
sian ravens had fattened on the wrecks of La Grande 
Armee. 

As mile after mile was measured, my spirits rose to 
their old-time gayety. Secure against police interrup- 
tion, we enjoyed the society of the Governor General 
and his charming wife. We were now in the limits of old 
Poland, passing Wilna in the night without leaving the 
cars. Grodno was left far behind. Next day we were 
met at the once capital Warsaw by the jubilant Serge 
and his happy bride. 

In the splendid official home of the Prince our party 
spent several happy days. Nothing was needed to com- 
plete the happiness of the mercurial Princess Vera but the 
final solution of Hermione’s troubles. We were rejoiced 
at a telegram from Tiumen, forwarded to General Ko- 
maroff, who, with characteristic bon homme, officially 
signed a return dispatch to Major Trepoff, which bore 
all our greetings, bidding them godspeed on the sleigh 


FOR HER LIFE. 


383 


journey to Irkutsk, and this message of love was sure 
to be delivered; for it was “official.” Had I listened to 
the delighted Madeleine we would have made a much 
longer stay at Warsaw. I feared, however, to compro- 
mise our good friends, by secret spying. General Haxo’s 
intrigues were endless. Once out of Russia, I could 
breathe the air • of freedom, and could co-operate with 
the untiring secret comrades and family friends of Arline 
Oborska. It was a sore trial to say “Good-bye” to our 
distinguished hosts, to look for the last time, perhaps, 
on the gallant Serge and his blooming bride. We had 
arranged every possible plan for correspondence and tel- 
egraphic report. Madame Mouravieff had given Major 
Trepoff a letter also to the wife of the Governor Gen- 
eral at Irkutsk. It acquainted her with our desire to use 
the government telegraph lines, over the signatures of 
their two powerful husbands. 

Trouble and adversity had now made our little coterie 
very near to each other. While sorrowing for the sepa- 
ration, we alT*agreed that it was better for Hermione’s 
interests to break up the knot of her friends. We could 
not all be watched at once, even by Haxo. Other mat- 
ters would occupy the cold-hearted police general. 

With my passports specially visad for departing by the 
Governor General, we departed. I changed my route 
from the main line and aimed for the frontier at Cracow, 
being really en route to Vienna, via Olmutz. We left the 
joyous home party to continue the splendid festivities in 
which pleasure-loving Madame Vera now took a merry 
revenge for the shortened glories of her engagement. 

There were quickly beating hearts and moistened eyes 
as we said “Farewell.” Leaving our friends, we com- 
menced the real stages of our homeward journey. 

Twelve hours’ run brought us to Cracow. With es- 
pecial letters to the Commandant, our stay was bright- 
ened by that hospitality which is a cardinal virtue of the 
Russian. 

The snows were stretching far and near, spread in a 
fleecy mantle, over the historic plains of Poland! As 
soon as we could find the time, I took a detour; and 


384 


FOR HER LIFE. 


then, led the eager Madeleine on a pilgrimage to the 
home of Hermione’s girlhood. 

Situated romantically, on a wooded ridge, the Oborski 
castle was a picture of a vanished feudal grandeur; for 
the lonely forests re-echoed only the wailing winter 
y/inds. All was a stern silence. Little hamlets dotted 
the great plains ‘at great distances. Our wild steeds flew 
along over the untrodden snow with all the speed of a 
native freedom. It was a dreary and forbidding scene. 
I had sent over from Cracow a mounted messenger to 
announce ps. As we drew up in the courtyard, before 
the grand, arched entrance, I could almost fancy the 
scene when Count Oborski led his' wild retainers out to 
die for unhappy Poland. Silence reigned now in the old 
manorial halls. yVe were met by the steward in charge. 
He conducted ps over the manor. Every nook was ex- 
plored by my eager sister, who marked the surround- 
ings of our captive’s girlhood. And, she was now far 
away, — a captive! In the old hall the mouldering ban- 
ners, battered armor and proud trophies of the chase still 
adorned the walls, which had re-echoed the cheers of the 
Polish revolutionists. But, the romance of the old had 
fled forever! Pictures of knight and lady looked down 
from the walls of gallery and boudoir, — a mockery 
of these later days! Hermione’s sweet face, as a child, 
also, — : a glorious picture of her, — in first flush of her 
womanly beauty, \yere in the places of honor, — in the 
state apartments. Her martial father, — a delicafe, lovely 
sketch of the mother she idolized, — and a fine portraif of 
the murdered Count Oborski:. — who fell under RadziviU’s 
cowardly aim, — were proudly shown us by the faithful 
retainer. 

“And, does the Countess come here often?” I asked 
of the old butler. 

“Ah! no,— Barin,” was the reply. “Her ladyship trav- 
els abroad most|y. We are always directed in our duties 
by our lady’s agent in Vienna.” 

So strange are the turns of Fortune’s rolling wheel! 
Whiije wp wandered over the corridors of the old manor, 
its fair lady was being borne over the distant snows 
of Siberia, — on a dark and dangerous quest for liberty! 


FOR HER LIFE. 


385 


And, the halls of her youth were de§o)ateJ We were 
simply but heartily entertaine4 at luncheop jn 
the castle. Our final pilgrimage was to the chapel, where 
the last of the old line lay entombed. By jthe resting 
place of Hermipne’s deaf ones, my gentle companion 
knelt, praying for the absent one, whose influence 
seemed to thrill us even here, in th,e Silent House of the 
Dead! WoulcJ she ever wapder back tp the scenes of her 
childhood? Where would be the rgsjting place of my 
falcon-eyed enchantress? It was beyond us tp read the 
dark Fates! Tenderly wrapt in dreaips of the pxilp were 
we as we regained . pur sl.eigh. In darkening shadows, 
over the lonely avenues, we sped baeje to th,e city where 
we were to be, for the last time, under the Russian col- 
ors! The border was near;— aiijcl how we sighed to pass 
that line! All was pow ready! The rporning of rpy last 
day in Muscovy dawned. Opr route now lay through the 
gloriops Austrian defiles, past Olniutz, down the valley 
of the Danube tp the gay, sparkling, pleasure-loving 
Vienna. Our last duties were performed. I wrote Her- 
mione and Major Treppflf full letters, as did my anxious 
companions. I §ent these tp Madame Mppfavieff, ‘ who 
would inclose them in official envelopes to her relative 
at Irkutsk. Last greetings tp our Petersburg friends 
and the tenderest remembrances fp the Warsaw asso- 
ciates were dispatched. The froptfer was now ip sight! 
It seemed like a blessed dreapi, — th^t I pould lay down 
the burden of haunting distrust and forget dogging spies 
and furtive mouchard! It was pot until I had struggled 
with the Austrian custom officials; — it was only after 
changing cars and obtaining a spug epppe for our party, 
in comfortable privacy, and we had placed miles between 
us and the last bla.ck-turbaned, gray-coated sentinel, that 
I realized I was “out of the House of Bondage!” What- 
ever exiiltation j[ might have indulged jn was repressed 
bv the strong desire to aid Hermipne in the future. I 
had been warped of the four powerful spb-divisions pf 
the Russian secret police at Londop,— Berlin, — Paris, 
and Zurich! Under good advice, I avoided Berlin, as the 
Russian Cpnsul .General in Berlin is the chief of all 

25 


386 


FOR HER LIFE. 


this dreaded octopus-like net-work of secret agents, pro 
fessional and amateur. 

Madeleine was now in the highest spirits. She hacT 
found her usual happy-hearted manner! She was not 
slow to remind me of the promise to tell her all my 
troubles! As we swept through the romantic gorges of 
the Austrian hills,' I fearlessly unfolded the whole his- 
tory of my environment. The enthusiastic girl was an 
eager listener. Before sleep closed our eyes I was justi- 
fied at last! My beloved one saw how the toils had 
closed around me! Peaceful, safe and happy were all 
our slumbers now. At noon next day we were at the 
Grand Hotel, — in Vienna. No little coterie could be 
more jocund than ours. We arranged for a pleasant so- 
journ on the banks of the beautiful blue Danube! For, 

I could breathe free air in peace! I hastened to leave a 
card upon our Minister and Consul General. Another 
pressing duty was to send a note with my card to Her- 
mione’s banker, — asking an interview on business. Light- 
hearted and happy, I then returned to enjoy the untram- 
meled freedom of the gay, stranger-welcoming capital. 
Not a . single maneuver of the Secret Bureau had an- 
noyed me since Count Mouravieff had discomfited the- 
sly General Haxo. I found letters from Serge awaiting 
me at the hotel. Rosy clouds of happiness were still en- 
folding the pair of young lovers. He found time to say 
that all was well, and that “Colonel Ivan Luboff” — who 
had been the grim Haxo’s factotum, — had been relieved 
and ordered to the Governorship of Saghalien Island. 
This is the great penal depot on the Pacific coast of Si- 
beria, at the mouth of the Amur River. It was a prac- 
tical banishment for the unfortunate subordinate! 

“This looks, Colonel, as if General Haxo sought a 
victim to avenge his own defeat in Colonel Luboff. He 
punishes him for not more promptly arresting Hermione 
in the tunnel. However,” continued the writer, “Luboff 
gets double pay out there, — and is a lord to himself, over 
there. He is not a bad fellow at heart! I shall not be 
hostile, for I wish to make no enemies now!” I read 
these lines in the cafe, — where all the delights of fine 
music and the special refreshments of Vienna attracted 


FOR HER LIFE. 


387 


curious tourists to watch the throngs of pleasure-seek- 
ing promenaclers in the old imperial town. 

A luxury which had been long denied me for some 
time was the perusal of the cosmopolitan newspapers, — 
a contrast to the meager columns of the Russian jour- 
nals! While scanning the pages of the Vienna Journal 
of the day, my glass fell from my hand in a start of sur- 
prise. The fates seemed to linger around our pathway. 
This dispatch met my eyes. It told me of a swift Neme- 
sis, — and of the dread .power of the mysterious order: 

"MURDER AT WILNA. A MYSTERIOUS VEN- 
GEANCE! 

"General Obranovitch, a distinguished Russian Gen- 
eral, was found this morning by his servant, dead in his 
bed, at the Railway Hotel at Wilna. The General had 
been ordered from St. Petersburg to Moscow. He was 
inspecting the frontier. He was formerly Chief of the 
Trial Military Court at . St. Petersburg. He was also at 
one time Military Governor of Poland. It seems that 
. the General had been quartered in the finest rooms of 
the Wilna Hotel. After giving a supper to some of the 
officers of that station, he retired, in the highest spirits. 
The valet occupied a room at the end of the corridor. 
He heard nothing unusual. The unfortunate gentleman 
had been stabbed to the heart. He had evidently died 
instantly, as there were no signs of a struggle. One of 
the servants of the hotel is missing. It is supposed the 
killing was the work of the nihilists. All the General’s 
valuables and a large amount of money were taken, — 
but, the disappearance of a number of papers and several 
blank passports can only be accounted for on the theory 
of a political murder. The unfortunate officer must have 
been dogged for some time and his movements com- 
municated to the conspirators. The assassin could es- 
cape either by Eydtkuhnen or Cracow, as from Wilna a 
number of trains run daily to these two frontiers. The 
stolen passports would enable the murderer to escape 
with several companions, 


388 


FOR HER HIFE. 


‘‘The General’s secretary says that the stolen papers 
were of the utmost importance. The theory of nihilistic 
piurder is carried out by the fact that the dagger left in 
the wound \yas an old Polish poniard with the motto To 
Polskie,’— engraved on the blade. The General was 
noted for his extreme severity when in charge of the 
frqntier. The utmost activity of the police has so far 
failed fo give any trace of the offender. Ttye missing 
man was cofnparatively unknown to his fellow servants. 
All parties going to the frontier are now subjected to the 
minutest search and inspection.” 

My heart bounded with joy to think that we had not 
stopped at Wilna. Passing there in the company of the 
Imperial Governor of Poland, — our little party could not 
be suspected. We were not a moment tpp soon oyer the 
frontier. I might have b een fppnd witty all JTermione’s 
papers ancf cipher, — if searched on leaving Cracow. I 
knew the whole dark truth ! The prefer, — ignorant of all 
secret future influences to shield and assist “the Star of 
Poland,”— had in gloomy, secret CQpcJaye affixed the 
fatal “cross” to Qbranoyitch’s name! For, he, too, had 
been “removed!”— like ttye treacherous French woman! 
It was in revenge for the cojd-blopded condemnation of 
Hermione, that he tyad tye.en killed! But fpy the help of 
the graceful Empress, and the accidental trapping of 
General ITaxp, pur own lovely >y^nderer would hpye 
died the death of the dog, — to wtyich he had sent hun- 
dreds! 

One! Two! Three! Mademoiselle Dauvray, — 
Radzivill — Obranoyitcty ! It was surely blow for blow! 
Terror for terror! For, I knew that the mad old tyyeria 
had been slain in the very rooms where he had 
often entrapped ttye poor PoJ.es, witty the vile plots of ttye 
detested “Secret Section.” Staring, glassy-eyed,— tye 
had been found, appealing to the pitiless Heavens, but the 
avenger had found him put in his hours of dalliance apd 
wild mirth. Spnte desperate one had struck, driving ttye 
cold steel into his merciless heart, with a Pole’s bitter 
curse. It is the broken up duel to the death pf ttye fapatic 
conspirator against the law’s minions! “Vengeance is 


FOR HER LIFE. 


389 


mine, saith the Lord,— I will repay!” The blow was as 
cruel, as deadly, as if struck by the official headsman, 
In the name of the Czar.” And, so Obranovitch had 
been removed! Herniione was avenged! I resolved to 
conceal tliis from Madeleine,— already harassed enough 
by the past! Fortune helped our cause in one respect! 
There were hundreds, many hundreds of miles between 
Hermione and this deed! Yet, General Haxo would 
knovV that it had been struck to avenge the lonely wom- 
an, whose ultimate fate was absolutely unknown to the 
heads Of the nihilist order! And, he might appeal to the 
Czar and follow our defeilseless one with new tortures. 
Trepoff must be warned! The very secrecy needed to 
protect our plans to help the Siberian wanderer, and the 
silence, self-enforced, of Hermione, as to her effective 
plans, had caused her friends in the “order” to fear that 
she might already have been secretly tortured. For, 
she could be also put to death in those far-off regions; 
where the prisoner’s wail of suffering never reaches the 
ears of the Imperial family. And they, the Dark Broth- 
erhood, could not know of the secret influence shielding 
her! So, they had struck back in a swift vengeance! 
That night, with my dear one, making merry at the opera, 
I could not. shut from my sight the vision of the stern 
old tyrant, dead in his sins;— struck down by an obscure 
and unknown hand; — a judgment swifter than the feet 
of the flying steeds bearing Hermione in a long, stretch- 
ing gallop over the snow-mantled plains of Siberia to- 
ward Irkutsk, the Winter City, — by the great inland 
Lake Baikal, — to be there cut off from and forgotten by 
the world. It was a singular fate that had cost three lives 
already, in the chase of the bright-eyed wanderer! Surely 
swifter than the panther’s feet is the lightning stroke of 
the dreaded children of Bakounin! I could fancy the 
old General, in those splendid rooms, recounting with a 
wicked leer his deeds of prowess in extermirlating the 
hated Pole. It might have pleased him to describe Her- 
mione’s beauty and anguish of heart as she stood there 
helpless before him, to hear the pitiless lips of the old 
Draco growl out her doom ! And, he had only sealed his 
own ! Fool in his cups ! At his side, the disguised waiter 


390 


FOR HER LIFE. 


may have been at that moment measuring the very spot 
to plant the fatal blow. What were his dreams, as his 
eyes closed for the last time in peaceful slumber? Did 
no fell warning chill him as the assassin’s knife fell in the 
darkness, — cleaving that wicked heart in twain? Hor- 
rible as was this deed, it was the sequence of years of the 
most ingenious cruelty. In an American city I had seen 
written in blood, on a piece of linen, a record made by a 
Siberian prisoner — “The red record of Poland!” It gave 
a list of great Polish families and the fate of the different 
members. The words “Shot,” “Died in Prison,” “Died in 
Siberia,” “Hung,” and other gloomy phrases, told how 
limb after limb of the old family trees had been lopped 
off by the axe of the executioner. One beautiful Polish 
lady of high family was whipped with the knout, — on the 
bare back, — on a scaffold, — before a Cossack regiment. 
Then, she was abandoned to the jeers of the wild riders of 
the plains! Insanity and death ended her sufferings. 
These were Obranovitch’s triumphs! 

When this old record came back to my mind, I could 
not wonder that the mad secret Vehmgericht met the 
slaughter of their innocents with a personal attack on the 
head which wore the bloody laurels of a stern, conquer- 
ing General. They returned the horrors of the rack 
and the dark cell with the knife of the midnight assassin. 
Fast behind these glutted butchers of the helpless fol- 
lowed the wolf-like feet of Revenge! 


CHAPTER XIII. 

THE CONVICT SETTLEMENT AT SAGHALIEN — HER- 
MIONE’S RUSE— ON THE BLUE PACIFIC — TRE- 
POFF’S REWARD. 

Merry Vienna! A “looker-on” has here much to 
amuse his world-wearied appetite! Still, in spite of the 
local attractions, I was early busied next day with the 
calm, executive man who was Hermione’s banker. 

The cipher was copied, a receipt given to me therefor; 


FOR HER LIFE. 


391 


— her will I deposited, an acknowledgment of that fact 
was mine, after my seals were placed on the document. 
It was inclosed in an envelope to her personal address, 
of which I took a memorandum. I found the man of 
shekels, florins and guilders to be a real man of “mark,” 
for he was silent, — and evidently knew all from Her- 
mione. The faithful Durand had forwarded full letters 
by their “underground mail” system. 

In view of the weeks of our stay, I decided to study 
my Siberian wanderer’s last instructions with care. There 
was abundant time before me. So it was in the intervals 
of social pleasures, sight-seeing, and daily enjoyments, 
that I pondered over her “Last Words.” I knew, or 
suspected, her ultimate wishes. I was not surprised to 
find she meditated a voyage to America, — not “in the 
name of the Czar.” The document of instructions given 
me, with the other papers, was explicit, as follows: 

The finest coasting vessel of 125 to 150 tons available 
on the Pacific coast was to be sent on a so-called “trading 
voyage” to Japan and the Arctic Ocean! This vessel 
was to await the arrival of a commander who would 
bring a letter from Hermione. It was to report to a 
well-known shipping house in Hakodate, Japan. From 
there, the voyage to the Siberian coast was only two or 
three days. This house was a correspondent of the 
great banker. They would have full confidential instruc- 
tions at Hakodate. These would vary with circumstances 
as developed. 

I was asked to clear the schooner for fishing and trad- 
ing. I could thus obtain for her papers giving her a fair 
sea character from Cape Horn to Behring Straits, — from 
San Francisco to Hong Kong. My Hermione asked me 
to select a working commander, for the boat. He should 
be a veteran of the wild, roving traders and fishers from 
San Francisco. I was to, also, ship several of the Rus- 
sian-speaking sailors abounding in San Francisco. They 
are all hunters, whalers and traders, as well, knowing 
every nook of the Siberian coast from Possiette Inlet to 
Plover Bay. 

Under pretense of outfitting and repair, the vessel 
could lie at Hakodate, several months if needed, under 
the orders of the local agent. Short cruises in the Kurile 


392 


FOM HEft LIFft. 


Islands would serve to disguise the real character of her 
mission. A perfect means of communication Would be 
by the reliable Danish cable from Japan. This under 
the Reuter agency control, was free bf Russian influence. 
The general plan bf these orders had been sent to the 
banker, who Was directed to dispatch one of his trtisted 
men to Hakodate. He would not leave till the attempt- 
ed rescue was achieved or all hope was lost. It was now 
nearing the end of December. The schooner must leave 
San Franciscd not later than March first. He! teal com- 
mander (an ex-Russian naval officer, of Finnish origin); 
a hardy Norseman, would go to Hakodate, via StiCz 
Canal, at once and take Out one or two selected subotdi - 
nates. This Was Hermione’s plan to save Dimitti Trep- 
off’s official name! He knew nothing! Ah! The brave 
Falcon! 

The vessel was to be chartered for nine months, with 
a privilege of extension. I was asked to use the fiatne 
of the banker’s agent at San FtancisCO, as mine Would 
attract some attention. Funds for the whole trip Would 
be furnished by him; Hermione’s personal supplies could 
be put aboard later at Hakodate. The abundant free- 
trade outfitting establishments were ample there. A 
private note to me asked me to make my way to Sail 
Francisco as soon as possible and prepare to send of! the 
vessel. 

“How I will reach the coast, or at just what point, I 
can not say, my dear Grahame, but I will prove to you 
that your Herhiione is really a bird of passage. I know 
I will succeed, — for TrepofFs sake! You will receive a 
cablegram, if I am fortunate enough to embark. I then 
will make my way over the Pacific to San Francisco. I 
am free When well off shore! Au revoir in America. 
If I live, — I will reach your free land of the West. The 
orders at Hakodate will be explicit. I shall use all the 
poWer of my money, — for Trepoff’s sake — and — my 
own.” 

While my dedr companion was enjoying all the round 
of pleasures that Vienna offered, I lost no time in a thor- 
ough agreement with the financial magnate. His uneasi- 
ness was considerable. Obliged to transact business 


FOR HER LIFE. 


393 


with all tl}e continental governments, he regarded my 
presence on the Danube as menacing the staid tranquil- 
lity of his affairs. He, however, gave me a carte blanche 
letter to his agent at San Francisco. I took another to 
the Hakodate house, which I could intrust to my sub- 
commander. All our Russian friends were to be kept in 
a profound ignorance of the whole plan to aid our wan- 
derer; — for TrepofFs eagerness might spoil all! A copy 
of the cipher would be personally given by him to the 
real comrpander, who would soon take the Peninsular 
and Oriental line of steamers to Yokohama, reaching 
Hokadate in two months. My “finance baron” gave us 
a royal dinner as a suggestive parting honor. We were 
now ready to move toward Paris. I had decided to leave 
Madeleine there for the winter; — for I burned to see 
Plermione free! Old friends would watch over Made- 
leine in Paris. A retired Russian ambassador, a relative 
of the Mouravieffs, would be her social sponsor and 
adviser! Our correspondence from the friends at War- 
saw and on the Neva proved the signal disgrace of Gen- 
eral Plaxo. He was under a decided cloud. The gi- 
gantic scapegoat, Colonel Ivan Luboff, had already de- 
parted for Saghalien to assume his new command. He 
would go out by steam to Japan, and cross the Tartary 
Straits, to Dui, — the official headquarters of the military 
government of Saghalien. With a full regiment under 
him, — and the military colony of “assisted settlers,” as 
well as several thousand convicts, — the Colonel would 
have an important command. The great coal mines of 
the half-explored island are the reserve for future Rus- 
sian railroad and naval use on the Pacific. Rich in furs, 
minerals, precious metal and superb timber, the Island 
of Saghalien, covering the mouth of the noble Amur 
River, is a priceless jewel in the Russian crown. Our 
letters proved all was well- Other events had chased the 
Zastrow family’s social troubles from the tongues of club 
and society gossips! The even tenor of daily life con- 
tinued in the family. Serge and the fascinating little 
Princess were compressing all the enjoyments possible 
into his brief leave of absence. 

In a week, we sought the ease and freedom only to be 


394 


FOR HER LIFE. 


found in “glittering Paris.” Our hearts and minds were 
at last free from all personal anxiety. I welcomed the 
repose due to a life released from the daily reiteration of 
the subject which had so long engrossed us, — and home- 
ward my eyes were turned! Actively pushing my prep- 
arations for the departure to resume the status of an 
American sovereign, I visited the banker’s agent in Paris. 
My addresses were registered and every possibility of 
misunderstanding avoided. 

“Homeward bound!” Blessed words to the world- 
worn American ! My eager anxiety as to our wanderers 
was soon dispelled. I was on the eve of my departure 
for Liverpool when the bank sent me the wished-for mes- 
sage: 


“Irkutsk, Siberia. 

“We arrived here yesterday; splendid health; very 
comfortable trip. My friend with the family now. I 
leave in one week for inspections. Back at St. Peters- 
burg four months. Write often. All safe now. Kindest 
welcome. Answer. 

“Trepoffi” 


With thankful heart, I penned a reply. 

“Major Dimitri Trepoff, 

* “Irkutsk: — 

“Leave for Liverpool to-morrow. San Francisco my 
address. Affectionate remembrance from all. All busi- 
ness now executed. 

“Grahame.” 


Major Trepoff and I had arranged that all my own 
letters for him should be sent to the American Legation 
under seal, and covered, to the Secretary of Legation. 
This functionary was proud to serve in any friendly way 
so powerful an official of Russia. And Mouravieff would 
send them to his brother in the official bags ! 

Parting is an event of quicker recurrence in middle 


FOR HER LIFE. 


395 


age than in unthinking youth! While naturally regret- 
ting a separation from Madeleine, her coterie of loving 
and trusted friends were now a phalanx around her. Both 
in France, Germany and Austria, she would be a link of 
the powerful family chain of friends, — all secretly de- 
voted to Hermione. Her youth and lovable qualities en- 
deared her to the whole circle of our connections; and 
she was eager,— fondly eager,— that I should not lay 
down my adopted brotherhood till Trepoff was free to 
make the wanderer his wife at last. 

No care for the future was mingled with the “good- 
bye,” for another season would bring us together, — after 
these anxieties were shadowy memories of the past. The 
last good-bye was said! 

The tossing green billows of the channel were passed 
in safety. England’s chalk cliffs rose up dull from out 
the hovering fog, which seems perennial. Through that 
garden spot of the world, — past the old fields of the wild 
Wars of the Roses, — I whirled away. At Liverpool, my 
good old friend, the “Etruria,” proudly led a stately 
Saturday morning procession as we threaded the slug- 
gish turns of the Mersey. I was off to aid at the farther 
end of the unwilling journey. 

The last adieu said at Queenstown, our ship rose and 
fell on the heaving waste of wild waters of the Atlantic; 
every impulse of the throbbing engines found its echo in 
my heart; — for the engines seemed to click out, “She 
shall be free! She shall be free!” 

In the quiet days spent on the great ferry, my mind 
regained all its old-time philosophic balance. Far from 
ignoble spies and lurking intrigue, I was happy. The 
wild winds thrilling their Aeolian song through shroud 
and rope; circling sea birds, gracefully curving in their 
airy flights; every dash of the ocean surge; — all was Na- 
ture’s own untrammeled freedom. No dark Russia there! 
It was the wind-swept harp of liberty that rang in my 
ears as I paced the swaying deck. I had resisted the 
utmost feminine diplomacy of my Madeleine as to my de- 
tailed movements! My bosom was sealed as to Her- 
mione’s attempted ocean flight! One imprudent word 
might ruin all ! — I was dumb ! The low fog drifting away 


396 


FOR HER LIFE. 


from Sandy Hqofc showed me in a few days the flag of 
our native land floating on its beloved shores. Our pilot 
had scrambled up with his bunch of papers from the 
funny little jolly boat. We were soon struggling with 
the blue-coated customs fiends, after gliding up the hand- 
somest bay in the world. Passing the light guards of the 
enemy, in the shape of the predatory hackman, it was 
with a thrill of joy, I gazed on the huge diamond in the 
immaculate expanse of linen covering the proud breast 
of the haughty Seneschal of the Fifth Avenue. The care- 
fully-arranged jocks, waxed mustache and unblushing- 
disdain of the Hero of the Daily Struggle for Life cheered 
and invigorated me. \ rejoiced in the indolent glare cast 
on me as he twanged his bell and dispatched me to No. 
667. I was accompanied by an insolent youth hearing a 
pitcher of ice water and several descendants of Irish 
Kings, who threw opr trunks all over the room. They 
held hard to the ropes of the mortgaged luggage, gently 
humming, “I Owe Ten Dollars to Q’Grady.” It was 
even so. I was opce more in Gotham,— the abode of 
the fat policeman,— the volume-like daily journal, with 
its blood-curdling yarns;— the Mecca pf all good Ameri- 
cans, — and the home of the gentle, melancholy and mild- 
ly-vicious Dud e ! But, I feared to go to Philadelphia, 
lest I might he detained in a loving embargo! I tele- 
graphed for my principal client to meet me at New 
York. It was indeed my own countree. I saw with joy 
those carefully-groomed young patricians, extracting 
their hebdomadal nutriment from the all-nourishing 
crooked heads of their proudly-borne sticks. Their pale, 
vacuous visages beamed out from “Pel’s” windows. They 
were reflected in awful solemnity from the gorgeous 
mirrors ol the Hoffman “Gallery of Art.” I easily ar- 
ranged “a sudden legal affair of moment” to send me to 
San Francisco forthwith, and, true to my oath, departed. 
Dispatches by cable had been interchanged with our 
sweet Madeleine, at Paris! And, now, my route was, 
Westward, Flo! 

I ran the gauntlet of the minions of that Croesus par 
excellence, Van Der Bilt, — the agents of Dr. Omnipres- 
ent Depew, — and was, by the favor of Divine Providence, 


FOR HER LIFE. 


397 


enabled to escape safely front all the accumulated hor- 
rors of Chicago! Thanks to a lucky star, I safely passed 
the muddy Missouri, rolled through the land of the Da- 
cotahs, and, flitting by the great inland capital of the 
uxorious Mormons, with a sigh for the early demise 
of the great Brigham, I was in a week on the Pacific 
slope. I mounted over Brigham Young! It was easy 
for me to recall the void left in many aching hearts by 
Brigham Young’s too short amatory career. He was 
only loved by some fifty wives! I shuddered when I 
thought of his manifold troubles for the temporary re- 
sponsibility of one woman too many had plunged rtie 
in sorrows all too fresh in my memory! Down the Hum- 
boldt, dnd into the beautiful passes of the Sierra Neva- 
das, my train thundered. Under the shadows of the 
grand old pines, gazing down into the amphitheaters 
where mountain lakes dimpled their glittering bosoms 
under the forest breeze, — past snow-dad summit, and 
dark olive depths of canons, where the antlered deer 
drank from diamond pools, — I hastened on. It was a 
chase, — a Wild chase to save one whose mysterious in- 
fluence chained me to her cause! 

Lumbering, hulking grizzly and lithe panther wandefed 
even now in those leafy ravines! Winding rivers flashed, 
thousands of feet below, as we tote down the frail iron 
pathway, — twisted around the scarred hillsides defaced 
by the miner’s pick. All was free, — all was new, — -and 
my heart was bounding! Here the only tyranny was 
that of man’s own passion, or the coarse greed of gold! 
No sneaking emissary of dark despotism could stand be- 
tween me and God’s own sunlight! 

The smiling fields of the green Sacramento Valley 
glided past me. Soon I saw, from the pier at Oakland, 
the distant flag on the old fort at the Golden Gate. It 
fluttered in a breeze sweeping over the blue Pacific in 
one unbroken path from the Siberian shores. Thither, 
my heart followed the beautiful and unfortunate Her- 
mione! Would I live to see the silver sail come up on 
that far blue, bringing her out of the House of Bondage? 
For, I had made her cause my own! On me now, alone, 


398 


FOR HER LIFE. 


depended the arrangements to effect Countess Obor- 
ska’s deliverance! 

When the, jar of travel died awaj^ and my daily life 
resumed its wonted aspects, I proceeded to an immediate 
examination of the great subject of assistance to my wild 
Polish beauty. The “talking wire” bore my salutations 
to the distant friends in Paris and Petersburg. From 
Trepoit, around the world, came a brief dispatch dated 
at Nertschinsk, — Pacific Siberia: 

“All well. On my tour homeward. Our friend com- 
fortable.” 

And so, far over the Pacific, Hermione was weaving 
her web of intrigue to reach the seaboard, and wait for 
the ocean flyer to bear her off by a lucky dash ! — a wild 
hope! Several weeks were passed by me in the careful 
examination, through agents, of suitable fast schooners. 
I labored in gathering from ocean traders, whalers, otter 
hunters, sealers and fishermen, all the lore of their vast 
experience on the lonely waters of the North Pacific and 
the Sea of Tartary! 

I was very guarded in my movements. Even in San 
Francisco, the local Russian interest was very powerful. 
Many refugees of note had drifted over from Japan and 
Siberia. Numbers of them gained our coast from Alaska. 
A thriving little colony of malcontents were here, and 
kept under the observation of the Russian Consul Gen- 
eral. They nested at Ukrania, near the occidental city. 
I speedily found out in my quiet researches that several 
splendid vessels were owned by the powerful and crimi- 
nal ring of opium smugglers, in California. The deeds 
of some of these vessels and their dare-devil crews recall 
the days of “Lafitte” and the old pirates of the Spanish 
Main. 

Aided by confidential friends, I obtained guarded in- 
terviews with some of the most “knowing ones.” It was 
in no lurking places, but in our best clubs, at our superb 
hotels, at the picturesque “Cliff House,” and in the of- 
fices of substantial, staid merchants, I met all these free 
lances of Fortune. Provided with funds, displaying rich 


FOR HER LIFE. 


399 


diamonds and driving fast horses, enjoying the richest 
tables, choicest wines and specially-selected segars, — 
these “sons of Belial” seemed to have cast out powerful 
anchors to windward among the complacent government 
officials and able lawyers. They had also a heavy bank- 
ing support, and, even journalistic friends! A convenient 
blanket seemed to wrap the drowsy heads of the customs 
officers when any sly plans were in execution. 

A number of tugs, some dashing schooners, and sev- 
eral brigs, seemed to be in a kind of feverish restlessness, 
flitting here and there, on various concealed missions. 
But gold, easily won — lightly held — was the game! 

At the service of a fugitive, — a defaulter, — a schemer, 
or any wild plan whereby ill-gotten gold could be gained, 
— these Ishmaels of the sea had the support of the great 
hoarded capital, — in the hands of the almond-eyed mer- 
chant princes of Chinatown! For, there were rings and 
rings of semi-criminal traders and shipping agents there. 
In the twenty or thirty squares of the Chinese quarters, 
policemen, lawyers, smugglers and customs officials all 
found a place for safely arranging the details of many a 
bold venture. Under the broad whaling and trading 
clearance, the white-winged skirmishers boldly sailed 
out on these exciting quests. The dignified dolce-far- 
niente of the revenue cutter aristocrats was never broken 
by any effective chase of these audacious adventurers; — 
for in the go-as-you-please atmosphere of San Francisco 
many undercurrents flowed on in silence ! It is America’s 
jumping-off place! 

While selecting a craft which should be a skimmer of 
the seas, I sought out a man for the quest, — one whose 
daring and experience could be relied on to the last gasp ! 
— a heart of oak, — a nerve of steel ! My daily occupations 
engrossed me. I indulged in a brief and guarded Eu- 
ropean correspondence. From the banker-agent I 
learned that all was well at Irkutsk. The never-tiring 
Princess Mouravieff wrote me that Trepoff had described 
their voyage as exciting and interesting. A few days 
brought me a letter from Irkutsk, which had been for- 
warded to the Russian Ambassador at Vienna and de- 
livered to the agent of Hermione. This was an audacious 


400 


FOR HER LIFE. 


trick, and was well worthy of the keen woman wit I had 
learned to admire. Blit, fire rhiist be fought with fire! 
Hermione’s .report was that of twenty-five days of superb 
sieigh travel after leaving TiUmen. To that point, the 
railway journey was replete with every comfort. The 
grand defiles of the Urals enchanted her; Every luxury 
was to be had as far as Tiumen. Her facile pen described 
the voyage over the great plains of Central Russia, the 
broad, giant rivers — Don and Volga; — strange peoples, 
wild tribes, cities nested in the gorges of the Urals; — 
those great ranges rich in gold and precious stones. Great 
seignioral possessions of the Galitzins and Demidoffs 
were passed, where manufactures and even the arts flour- 
ished in developing the matchless resources of the pre- 
cious mountains. Splendid iron and steel factories,— 
works for dressing the marbles, malachite and other semi- 
precious minerals. Lapidaries who toiled in perfecting 
the varied precious stones and treasures of Asiatic Rus- 
sia. No great caravans of prisoriers were met, as the 
summer is used for the march of the exiled from Tiumen 
to Irkutsk. To my surprise, she described the steppes 
as available for future grazing and agricultural uses. The 
latter half of the sleigh journey, through rolling arid 
wooded central Siberia to the growing city of Irkutsk, 
was positively agreeable. Four large sleighs made up 
the party, with double teams obtained on the “Imperial 
Passport.” With the clattering dozen Cossack lancemen, 
the little party was safe* as the men were well armed. 
The devoted Durand was Hermione’s companion in her 
Covered sleigh. This vehicle, with its abundant fur robes 
and canvas snow-screen, was a marvel of comfort. Com- 
partments in the body of the sleigh were filled with the 
little luxuries of travel. My child of destiny said that the 
usual accommodations of the post stations were fair, and 
that meats, game, gOocl tea and even wines could be had ! 

An effective telegraph at every station enabled Trepoff 
to order his relays ahead. On several stages, sleep in the 
sleighs was agreeable. The construction permits the 
traveler to lie at full length in comfort. 

< Plermione reported the passing of many parties of offi- 
cials and their families. Some of them were en route 


F OR HER LIFE. 


401 


from Vladivostock to St. Petersburg. At several large 
cities, Major Trepoff awaited for conferences with the 
officials. His delicacy protected her from all intrusion. 
Her rest at these towns divided the journey. “I really 
enjoyed the voyage,” said she, “as Dimitri and I agreed 
not to converse on the past troubles until safely here. My 
mind is rested. I am in excellent spirits.” 

Of the grand Baikal ranges, Irkutsk, a splendid town 
on the great lake, the unwilling “guest of the Czar” 
spoke with pleasure. Every adjunct of civilized life was 
there. The large garrison made it a cheerful winter city. 
The closing pages described her reception: 

“On our arrival, my dear brother, I was at once driven 
to the residence of the Governor General. Madame 
Mouravieff welcomed me personally, as Dimitri had tele- 
graphed our arrival. I am an inmate of her lovely home. 
The General, who is just as kind as Count Mouravieff, 
his brother, is full of consideration and dignified courtesy. 
His charming wife gives me all the resources of books 
and music. Her two little girls are angels of budding 
promise. I owe her sisterly devotion here to the most 
able and charming woman I ever met, Countess Moura- 
vieff. She has fully prepared my welcome by her sister- 
in-law by her own letters and dispatches. I shall not 
compromise any one by telegraphing to you direct. I 
will hear from my Vienna agent safely; you will, also, 
from him direct. I remain in social seclusion as regards 
the external world. There is a charming circle of “de- 
portees” here, who represent, as you imagine, all ranks 
of Russian political offenders. The “extremists” are 
silent and nurse their sorrows alone. Many of those who 
are merely exiled here are in official and professional life. 
A considerable delegation of the relatives, friends and 
children of former political prisoners live in prosperous 
freedom. They are not wishing to return to the struggle 
of egotistic, high pressure civilization. I have abundant 
exercise in driving with Madame Mouravieff. The 
grounds are also free to me. But one associate have I 
from the official staff. I met with joy my old friend 
Prince Ferdinand Wittgenstein. He is the General in 
26 


402 


FOR HER LIFE. 


Chief of the Czar’s forces on the Pacific. He is a gallant 
old nobleman, whom I have met at many princely houses 
in Austria, Hungary and Galicia, as he is a mighty hunt- 
er. I knew him in my early girlhood, when he was the 
leader of the Russian colony in Paris. His district em- 
braces the Pacific coast from the Amoor River to Corea. 
It also includes Saghalien. His headquarters are at Vlad- 
ivostock. A general inspection of the whole Mongolian 
and Chinese frontier has brought him here. His confer- 
ences with Governor General Mouravieff are of great 
importance to the Czar. If I feel able to face a journey 
of seven weeks, I may try to leave here in a month with 
his party. He will also convoy several officers’ families 
with his official train. It is the one chance open to me 
for my final escape. Our route would be over the frozen 
Lake Baikal, down the head waters of the upper branches 
of the Amoor and through the great gold fields to Nert- 
schinsk. We travel then down the great wooded val- 
ley of the Amoor, sleighing on the ice along the river 
banks to the city of Blagoveschensk, — thus skirting the 
Chinese frontier. From there, twenty days on the ice 
will bring us easily to the capital of Pacific Siberia, at 
Habarofka. 

“Prince Wittgenstein will remain at Habarofka, the 
coast capital, for a month. There is an agreeable colony 
of ladies and officials there. Though I know no one yet 
of that circle, I find the ‘Free-masonry of Kindness’ may 
cause me to go there, under the advice of my secret 
friends here! They are hosts, — not jailers, — in their 
treatment of me. The accomplished Prince knew my 
gallant father. I can then trust my father’s daughter in 
his own loyal hands! I will consider if I wish to ask a 
change to Vladivostock, or even Saghalien, — as I would 
like to see the ocean once more as soon as spring is with 
us! I shall be guided by advice. You will soon know 
my decision after you receive this. 

“The Prince is a linguist, wit, scholar and gentleman 
of the old school. He has all the dashing, splendid nerve 
of the higher Russian, and is a soldier par excellence. It 
is in his power to assign me to permanent quarters and a 
circle of selected friends somewhere near the coast. They 


FOR HER LIFE. 


403 


will make my exile tolerable. To you, as my confidant, 
I only say, now, ‘Remember!’ I trust you in all your 
judgment, devotion and your untiring kindness. Be ev- 
ery moment on the watch! 

“Dimitri is at last gone! You know what I would say! 
My debt to him I fear I can never pay! You will hear 
later from him. Nothing in our relations is changed! I 
will not involve him. He goes on to Yakutsk from Nert- 
schinsk, — then to Tobolsk, — Kolyvan and Omsk. He 
will retrace his steps, meeting the spring exiles on their 
march, having examined the four principal centers where 
deported women are resident. The mines and strictly 
criminal classes will be looked into by others. All the 
penal relations of the Siberian exiles will be examined, 
except those of the life-sentenced convicts of Sagbalien. 
They are the lowest criminal malefactors, male and fe- 
male, sent from Odessa by sea for violent crimes. There 
is no consideration on earth which can cause me to in 
any way prevent Dimitri loyally and freely achieving the 
mission of the gracious Empress, — for he must help 
the helpless here! — those even sadder than I am. He is a 
star among men, and the most delicate soul I ever met, 
except some one I will not name;^*but, you can fit the 
compliment where it belongs. 

“Adieu! Beloved Friend and Brother! I am calm, 
tranquil, — almost happy. Do write to every one of the 
dear friends who have labored for me. I can not find 
words to say how much I love them. It makes me smile 
through these tears. I have taken the motto of Edmond 
Dantes, — ‘Wait and Hope!’ I long for but one thing, — 
as the wearied Greeks of Xenophon searched the dis- 
tance for the sparkling sea so beloved in olden days : — I 
lie at night waiting to hear the song of the wild waves 
breaking on the rocky shores of the coast of Tartary. 
Then, brother and friend, if you are still true and my star 
is a fortunate one, let the free ocean take me as its bride, 
— for I will be free, — even if Death kisses the cold lips 
of the woman whom you have made the sister of your 
heart! There is a dark and shadowy land where free- 
dom may be annihilation! Better that, — better the long, 
dreamless sleep of Death, — than a lingering life to re- 


404 


FOR HER LIFE. 


mind me that I am still a true child of Poland, — and, — 
wearing* a Russian chain. In my dreams I see your kind 
eyes watching over me in my wanderings! Beside you, 
I can see, too, the dear one whose forgiveness I implore. 
But, you are free, and you know what it is, — for you 
have been in the grasp of the Bear! 

“For the last time, I send you my unfailing love and 
say, perhaps never to repeat it, 

“I am in life and death, your sister, 

“Hermione, 

“Once Arline Lazienska Obqrska.” 


I felt, on reading these pages, how the passionate as- 
piration of the proud woman for an untrammeled liberty 
had nerved her to an almost desperate undertaking. The 
hazard was a fearful one. If retaken in any thwarted at- 
tempt to escape, she would pass into the felon convict 
class; — and then we could not help her! Our interces- 
sions would be unavailing. The hope of pardon would 
be gone forever! With all a woman’s longing for a future 
heart-life, she still had the stern spirit of the proud old 
Polish warriors in her nature. The men who boasted that 
their lances would uphold the falling skies were her fore- 
fathers. It was “even to the bitter end” their wander- 
ing descendant would pursue her devious life-path! I 
made her rescue my one duty in life, — my sacred trust ! — 
for her own brave eyes seemed to be shining on me now. 

Her letter roused me to action like a bugle call. My 
resolution to act at once was now heightened by a dis- 
patch from Vienna to me: 

“Managing partner arrived safely in Japan.” 

I knew that the skillful commander was then on the 
ground. It was now the middle of February. The com- 
ponent forces of our expedition of rescue were taking 
their place for action. 

From Trepoff I heard, by cablegram, in a few days: 


FOR HER LIFE. 


405 


“Omsk, — Siberia. 

“Grahame. — San Francisco: 

“Here now concluding work. In two months back at 
home. Friend gone down river. All well. Last report, 
good health and spirits. 

“Trepoff.” 

It was, indeed, now high time to act. Much delibera- 
tion and a thorough survey of all things available caused 
me to negotiate, through a friend, for a charter of the one 
unrivaled racer of the Pacific. 

An old whaling captain, who had made many raids on 
the Siberian coast in search of whalebone, walrus ivory, 
sable and fox skins, and other Arctic treasures, brought 
me the man on whose seamanship and knowledge of Si- 
berian trade methods we would hazard all. Many a voy- 
age had the veteran sailor made to the north. His for- 
tune was due to surreptitious ventures. In these, enor- 
mous cargoes of sealskins and the priceless otters were, 
easily obtained from the treasury of the freebooter, — 
the shores of the North Pacific. Dodging among the 
Aleutian islands, covered with their protecting banks of 
fog, he had often gathered a rich harvest from the crowd- 
ed seal rookeries of the Prybiloff group, — much to the 
anguish of the capitalistic syndicate of American fur seal 
princes. He had not scrupled to visit the Komandorski 
group on the Russian side, filling his vessel with the 
precious peltry from the Russian islands of “Medny,” or 
“Copper.” In his joyous moments of expansion, he even 
boasted of watching until the departure of the Russian 
garrison at Robben Island, near Saghalien; — and then, 
taking a cargo or two of fur sealskins from that barren 
haunt of the mysterious sea-bear, by a bold coup de main, 
landing them in Japan. He could dart out from the 
friendly shelter of the Kuriles group, — belonging to Ja- 
pan, — and so, play hide and seek with the Russians. 
When chased bv the swift Russian cruisers, he did not 
hesitate to run his boat in shore in the shallows, where 
the “twenty-five-footers” could not reach him. It was his 
proud boast that on several occasions (his crew being 
armed with Winchesters) he had beaten off attacks; — for 


406 


FOR HER LIFE. 


he was a grim old sea-dog in his way. Threading the 
dangerous shoals of the northern groups, he would either 
run due north and skirt the American coast home to 
California, or glide back innocently into Hakodate, 
where his cargo would be transhipped direct to Europe. 
A hum-drum freightage of sulphur for San Francisco 
would then bring him home with clear papers. He was 
discreet enough to say nothing of the bills of exchange 
in his sou’wester, representing the spoils of his successful 
raid on the neglected preserves of Alexander Roman- 
off. He regarded these moneys as a personal gift of a 
perfunctory nature, made “in the name of the Czar,” — 
whose health he frequently drank in his libations after 
these daring visits to a neighboring realm. A king of 
the sea was he, — and laughed at all kings ashore! A 
good friend, a kind father, — liberal and genial, — he en- 
joyed on shore the gradual development of an extensive 
vineyard and splendid fruit farm, — to which he intended 
to retire when rheumatism, — not repentance, — would 
force him to abandon the quarter-deck of his peaceful 
corsair of the Pacific. 

The fragrant Havana and cheering glass cemented our 
friendship. In the seclusion of a quiet resort, Captain 
Knox presented his fidus achates, — “Mate Bill Barker.” 
This worthy was a six-footer from Maine, — a young 
giant, — boyish and smooth-faced. His glance was keen 
as a gray hawk. Muscles of steel and nerves of 
unshakable steadiness told of his years of dangerous ex- 
perience. Alike used to the rifle and the oar, and a good 
navigator, he was a man of only twenty-seven. His life 
had been passed on the sea since he left the craggy shores 
of the Pine Tree State as a boy on a whaler. Many a 
huge polar bear, elk, reindeer and walrus had he slain 
in his apprenticeship. Long nights lying out on the ocean 
in a light dory, watching for the shy sea otter, had given 
him a hunters patience. He could put the ball of his 
fine rifle into an otter’s head as far as it could be seen. 
The great Bowhead whale had often bounded in madness 
as this young Colossus fired the fatal bomb-gun; — or, 
standing in the bow of a willowy whaleboat, had driven 
the harpoon up to its head in the waiting monster, — a 


FOR HER LIFE. 


407 


treasure lying on the water, — a leviathan in power, — a 
racehorse in speed, — and a demon when aroused. The 
ruler of the creatures of the sea! Bill Barker was thus 
amply vouched for. With all a sailor’s brevity, he accept- 
ed my offer of the command of the expedition. I told him 
frankly there would be a run for home and perhaps a bit 
of adventure. When I offered to allow him to choose 
and outfit the boat to be used, his eyes sparkled. I gave 
him the salary he asked, with the distinct understanding 
it would be doubled in case of success. This was his first 
independent cruise in command. He had been second in 
many a whalebone raid along the Siberian coast. Then, 
guns and whisky tempted the poor Tchuktches to barter 
their whalebone at a half-dollar a pound (in nominal 
trade), it being worth a cool five dollars when landed. It 
was to this ingenious master mind was due the superb 
scheme to sack the rich Russian fur depots at Petropau- 
loski by a concerted attack of several American trading 
corsairs. The accidental arrival of a swift, heavily-armed 
Russian dispatch cruiser alone saved the exposed quar- 
ter of a million dollars’ worth of peltry. And, he was 
now looking out for an exciting run! 

Under the direction of the Chinese and American oper- 
ators of San Francisco, he had landed several cargoes 
of opium from China, via Japan. First taken to the 
lonely Alaska coast, thence it appeared in San Francisco 
(encased in salmon barrels) as an innocent, unexamined 
free entry of fish! Sleek, godly merchants, astute politi- 
cians, and greedy, complacent revenue men, knew Bar- 
ker’s peculiar reliability and great prowess in this ad- 
venturous profession. A Robert Macaire of the ocean 
was he. He took all the personal risks ; — they held their 
heads up and were pillars of the community! 

Four winter months ashore sufficed to send him out, — 
empty handed, — each spring on some ne^, desperate 
quest. His social tastes were expensive, and, he trusted 
to luck! Anxious to confide my dangerous secret to but 
one man alone, I made an appointment with Bill for the 
next morning. He was to show me the chosen ocean 
rover of our present need. The jolly old nautical men- 
tor was delighted as he saw I was satisfied with his 


408 


FOR HER LIFE. 


young protege. We drank a parting round to the success 
of the trip. The old captain’s knowing wink was redolent 
of “opium;’,’ — he scented a rich “run” in the near future. 

The fogs were gray over San Francisco Bay next 
morning as Bill Barker and I stood on the lower deck of 
the “Tiburon” ferry boat to Sancelito. Past the idle line 
of British steel ships, gliding by the war vessels in the 
stream, under the frowning guns of old “Alcatraz,” — 
the military penal rock of the west, — we darted over the 
placid waters to the yacht anchorage. As we neared the 
Sancelito wharf, Bill rolled his cigar in his mouth, gave 
an uneasy and wishful shrug of his shoulders, saying: 

“There she lies, sir,” — with a formal tug at his fore- 
lock. When the steamer swung into its easy landing, I 
followed the horny index finger of my maritime Colos- 
us. Graceful as an ocean bird, — neat and clean from the 
knight-head to stern davits, — a large white schooner was 
swinging idly at her buoy. There was nothing to indi- 
cate “mischief” in her make-up, — save the gleaming cop- 
per, which told of “deep sea” voyages. The enormous 
Oregon pine sticks towered ninety feet or more to the 
cross-trees; — the long, rakish boom was drooping grace- 
fully far over the stern. Tossing at the buoy on the roll- 
ing swell of one side-wheeler, she dipped her saucy nose 
in the green bay water, rising like a seagull in her up- 
ward swing. 

“What boat is that, Barker?” said I, carelessly. A 
look of pained surprise struggled over the brown visage 
of the mariner. 

“Why, sir! — that’s the schooner ‘Bonanza!’ There was 
never a boat on the ocean could cross her bows, except 
the old slaver ‘Wanderer.’ I think they gammon about 
the slaver a good deal! She’s got two suits of racing 
sails on her now; — she can do seventeen knots if she’s 
trimmed! f ^je’ll go on board of her!” I was silent while 
Bill paddle^ me out. We allowed the throng of loungers 
to leave the wharf. Fifty strokes of his stalwart arms 
propelled the little dingy alongside. 

As I neared her, I saw a schooner of one hundred 
and twenty feet in length and about thirteen feet draught 
—when loaded. Her exquisite model was drawn so fine 


FOR HER LIFE. 


409 


that her size and beam were not apparent. Over her 
sweeping waist we sprang. I was taken all over her. 
Not a plank, bolt-pin or stay which was not specially 
selected. The sign of a knot could not be traced in the 
great masts, whipping idly as she rolled at her anchor- 
age. 

The one old relic of the sea, who was affectionately 
rubbing at a bit of brass, here and there, gave a con- 
vulsive wink as he sized up my companion. Mahogany- 
faced and taciturn was this venerable salt. I suspected 
him of sitting on that flyer’s rail and laughing as a nine- 
knot cutter tried to overhaul the swift Bonanza. She 
fairly flew when her great balloon-jib broke out, dancing 
along at fourteen knots, with several little saucy tricks 
of her own in reserve. Her fame was in every one’s 
mind. She was fit to run for a man’s life. I sighed as 
I left her, to think I would not, perhaps, ever feel her 
bound over the breaking wave crests, and swing out, far 
into the ocean reaches, leaving everything behind! 

Peerless and beautiful, as the free wind kissed her 
stretching sails, all she wanted was a man at the helm, 
some noble race to run. Not an inlet from San Diego 
to Kodiak, not a bay from Hong Kong, Hakodate, Pet- 
ropauloski, and Plover Bay, to Victoria, had not mir- 
rored her graceful lines. She nestled in her anchorage, 
bearing her laurels daintily. A sly demure witch ! 

It was an hour later, over the soft-shell crabs, birds, 
and slender-necked bottles of a club lunch, that she be- 
came mine for a long charter, at a thousand a month, 
with an extension, if needed, of a year. I had fallen in 
love with her. 

She was a coy bird to be wooed only in quiet. When 
the pact was made, there was a thrill in Bill Barker's 
hand, which electrified me. Captain now, and the peer- 
less rover his charge! 

“Am I really to have her on this run, Mr. Grahame?” 
said he. “Bill!” I replied, “you’ll fit her, sail her, and 
have the whole responsibility. I count on you to the last 
gasp ! I want you to take her and pick out a game crew. 
You can’t clear too quick for me!” 

“I can run her out of the Golden Gate in a week, 


410 


FOR HER LIFE. 


ready for a trip around the world,” said the happy son of 
Neptune. 

“Come in to-night, Bill, and get your orders.” I 
handed him a list. of the men wanted, and we regained 
the ferry. 

It was a little too much for Barker; he could not un- 
derstand his quest. He gazed from the weather rail, un- 
easily, at Fort Point. No one was near, as the ferry-boat 
deck was dripping with flying spray. I placed my hand 
on his shoulder. “Bill! Do you know where you’re 
going?” His eager eyes were glued on mine. 

“China! Opium!” he whispered, hoarsely. 

“Barker! You’re going to the other side, to bring me 
home an angel.” 

He smiled in a dazed way. “You find the angel, and 
I’ll bring her home to you all right!” said my Captain. 
That night, Captain William Barker received his orders at 
my rooms. Two navigators, seven men, and the steward 
were to be the crew. A full hunting and trading outfit 
was ordered to disarm all suspicion. A hundred tons of 
rock salt in bags below were to be put on to keep her 
steady. Stores and forgotten articles could be obtained 
at Hakodate. The customs clearance was rushed 
through. A sealed letter for the unknown “angel” was 
given to Bill, with orders to destroy it, if overhauled by 
any Russian cruiser. By the outgoing Japan steamer 
Oceanic, a bank letter to the agents at Hakodate, noti- 
fied them of the schooner “Bonanza’s” consignment. A 
duplicate sealed letter was sent to Hermione to their 
mercantile address, “Meyer and Euler, Hakodate, 
Japan.” Captain Barker was ordered to report his arrival 
at Hakodate, also his sailing thence, by cable to me. I 
would have ample time to send a second letter to Hako- 
date by the next fortnightly steamer for Japan and China. 
All was now in readiness; the San Francisco agents’ 
custom broker cleared the boat. The Morning Chronicle 
of March ist bore the simple statement in its shipping 
news: 

“Cleared — Schooner ‘Bonanza;’ Barker; Kurile Is- 
lands. Fishing and trading.” 

Bill, ready for the fray, stood by me on a tug taking 


FOR HER LIFE. 


411 


the Bonanza out to sea, the day after the clearance. Sev- 
eral last packages, marked, “Euler & Meyer (H),” were 
entrusted to Captain Bill. As we swept around 
Black Point, and then passing the old flag, on the Heads, 
I said “Good-bye” to my stalwart sailor. Old Captain 
Knox gave him a huge silken American flag, which he 
had carried all over the world. He told him to hoist it in 
triumph on his return. Out over the bar, far beyond 
the treacherous rollers of the shallows, did the “sea lion” 
pull the fretting, restless “Bonanza.” Captain Bill was 
now warned that it was time to cast off. I jumped over 
the rail with him as the eager men stood by, ready to 
make sail. Down in the cabin, on the high seas, I then 
told him, in twenty last words, that he would meet an 
adviser at Hakodate, who would have the “firm’s” signa- 
ture! Handing to him a letter of credit, calculated to 
make him safe in any port, I told him at last who the 
angel was, where she languished, and that his honor and 
manhood was now my only hope for her successful res- 
cue ! In case of accident to me, he was to report to Cap- 
tain Knox, who now knew all, as we were safe out of 
Russian dangers. “Bill,” said I, you’ve got the swiftest 
boat on the Pacific, the American flag over you, and a 
sweet woman to fight for! Go it, now, and, come in a 
winner!” The young giant rubbed his eyes. “Mr. Gra- 
hame, I’ll find her, if I have to go to Herald Island. 
Trust to me while a stick of the Bonanza holds to- 
gether!” 

“Then, go now! — and God bless you!” I cried. I 
wrung his hand, and jumped over the brass-bound rail. 
He sprang to his post. Five seconds more saw the ca- 
bles cast off! The jib was already set; our tug stopped. 
A few dozen yards away, the exquisite queen of the 
ocean foam tossed her head impatiently. The foresail 
rattled up! All hands jumped to the mainsail. Under a 
ten-knot breeze, the pride of the Pacific leaned over in 
the loving arms of the salt breeze and went racing off 
into the west. As she gathered headway, the American 
flag fluttered out saucily from the main peak! Captain 
Bill then waved his last “Good-bye.” “My heart beat 
high in the throbbing of all a fond heart as the pretty 


4i2 


FOR HER LIFE. 


“Bonanza” showed the gleaming copper, while rising to 
the long swells of the open sea, and dashed away to the 
rescue! The tug captain rang his bell. We churned 
around. I took my last glance of the receding beauty; 
for already gray mist was wrapping her graceful outlines. 
The wide spread “white wings” were now bearing my 
hopes, fears, and aspirations far beyond the lofty crags 
of the Farallones! To the lonely shores of Saghalien. 

The flying “Bonanza” was on the deep once more! 
My heart was with her as she ploughed over the rolling 
furrows of the Pacific, gliding ofl like a phantom, — a 
thing of beauty, weird, dauntless, and fit for the dainty 
foot of my Hermione! Home with my tired old com- 
rade Knox to the rest and shadows of the night, we went 
in silence. With prayers for the success of the forlorn 
hope, did I journey back into the beautiful San Fran- 
cisco Bay. 

At the telegraph office, I stopped, to cable as follows: 

“Meyer & Euler, Hakodate, Japan: Schooner-yacht 
‘Bonanza’ — Barker, master — sailed to-day. Consigned 
to Managing Partner.” 

I signed the name of the Vienna bankers agent. All 
was over! I was now free to wait and wonder where 
Hermione was watching for a white, glittering sail! 
Gliding down the picturesque Asian gorges, over the 
frozen streams, past the monuments of Genghis Khan, 
that mighty conqueror from the Amoor Valley, over the 
broad bosom of the northern king of rivers, and ever 
toward the sea — the beautiful sea — she was hastening 
that very day ! 

Thirty-five long days dragged by! No letter from 
Hermione broke the silence! I had flitted away at once 
to the East, and my bride, the loving daughter of Qualc- 
erdom, knew the whole story of my “important business” 
now; for we had returned together. Her blue eyes looked 
wondering at me when I confessed the reason of my 
strange lingering on the Neva, and my sudden flight to 
San Francisco! And together by the western shores we 
waited for news! At last came these words of Trepoff; 
and the telegram filled me with renewed anxiety! Still 
no news of Hermione! 


FOR HER LIFE. 


413 


“Tiumen, Siberia, April 6. 

“Home — Petersburg — for two weeks. No news of our 
friend. She is at Vladivostock, probably. Write and 
answer. All quiet here. Trepoff.” 

So, Dimitri’s official quest was over, and he was still 
uncompromised. Soon he would be with his glittering 
circle of — Muscovite friends. I answered guardedly. If 
I could only keep him from meddling, till he made his 
report! And, an answered cablegram to Vienna proved 
that the banker had received no news of the waif! It 
was with a beating heart I tore open the next cable in a 
few days. My bride of a few weeks was as eagerly anx- 
ious to meet her new sister by brevet as I was myself! 
And, our “eyes were turned only to the Golden Gate!” 
It was comforting, and yet the battle was only on! 
And it read: 

“Hakodate, Japan, April 9. 
“Belloc Freres, Bankers, San Francisco: 

“‘Bonanza’ arrived; all well. Cargo ready at Sagha- 
lien. Managing partner controls. 

“Meyer and Euler.” 

The “cargo ready at Saghalien!” Then, Hermione 
was there, and — controlled the scheme ! So, the gods 
were at last good to us, answering our prayers! Over 
the wild heaving ocean the fleet-footed “Bonanza” drove 
along under the cold Pole star, shining ever from its 
chilly ether pitilessly on the mirth and miseries of men! 
The dainty ocean rover was at her post! The precious 
cargo, too, was ready at Saghalien! There was little 
rest for my anxious brain. How had Hermione reached 
the coast? Why was she at the lonely island of Sagha- 
lien — the very citadel of the jailers? At Saghalien! In 
the lines of a camp. All these were questions of import, 
which I vainly tried to solve. The letters from Europe 
gave me only news of our general family tranquillity. 
All in Petersburg had awaited anxiously the return of 
Dimitri Trepoff. General Haxo was as quiet and as 
vicious as a half-frozen snake! In Paris, Madeleine was 
enjoying the natural life museum of the gay world, I 


414 


FOR HER LIFE. 


knew now, in my heart, that the decisive epoch was at 
hand! My fingers trembled as I opened my next dis- 
patch. It was as follows, and was a message of great 
import: 

“Hakodate, Japan, April 12. 

“Lenox, San Francisco: 

“Sail to-morrow for Dui, Saghalien, to load coal as 
home ballast. By orders of the managing partner. All 
is well. Barker.” 

And, so, he had run the “Bonanza” right under the 
guns of the fortress! I studied for hours over the last 
dispatch. Artful Bill Barker had suggested, evidently, 
the selling of the valuable salt cargo at the government 
coal mines at the port of Dui, Saghalien Island. It would 
be welcome there, and give an air of innocence to the 
voyage. He would take time in ballasting the yacht 
with coal. It provided an excellent excuse to linger 
there while arranging the loading and discharging. If 
my beautiful fellow-prisoner was really there, she would 
probably be at the headquarters. Now, must we only 
wait and hope. If she were not there, then, a permit 
for trading and coasting could be had at Vladivostock — 
only six days’ sail away. At that fort, frowning batter- 
ies and swift steam cruisers, made any violent attempt 
at rescue almost hopeless. The suspense was madden- 
ing! But, Bill Barker’s wit was keen! And, the bright- 
eyed managing partner “had posted him!” I could only 
wait, wait! On the Amoor river, a half-mile wide at this 
point, a hundred miles from its mouth, the city of Haba- 
rofka is the main capital of Pacific Siberia. From here, 
Khamschatka, the Tartary coast, and Saghalien, are all 
governed. It controls the great naval depots of Niko- 
laevsk at the mouth of the Amoor and Vladivostock. 
Both of the last are fortified strongholds. A telegraph 
to all of the great frozen realm, except Khamschatka, en- 
ables the troops, the fleet, and public affairs to be rapidly 
directed. The great lonely Amoor Valley will soon be 
the main line of the Trans-Siberia railway from Irkutsk, 
the capital of Asiatic Siberia, to this point. From thence, 
it will follow the Ussuri river to Lake “Khanka,” and 


FOR HER LIFE. 


415 


down the outlet of that body of water to the almost im- 
pregnable Golden Horn. This road, built on the north 
side of the Amoor, the dividing line from China, will be 
secure from serious Chinese attack by river gunboat 
patrols. Ten to fifteen thousand soldiers, officials, me- 
chanics, and traders always watch over the great depot 
at Habarofka. It is too far from the mouth of the Amoor 
to be reached by heavy hostile vessels. Double-walled 
log houses, replete with every comfort, are the rude but 
agreeable homes of the higher classes. Around the hos- 
pitable boards here gather some of the very ablest offi- 
cials and soldiers of Russia. Increased pay and pen- 
sions requite these distant servants of the Czar for their 
winter isolation. It was here, after five weeks of sleigh 
voyage, in company of several official families, the star of 
Poland had rested on her weary voyage to the sea. The 
Governor General and all his friends were kind and help- 
ful. The magic name of Prince Wittgenstein silenced 
remark and insured attention; and, the government 
couriers bore unknowingly three letters which reached 
us while we waited for the final issue. It was on the 
final advice of General Mouravieff, at Irkutsk, that Her- 
mione had voyaged toward the sea. A marvelously 
adaptable people, in travel, are the Russians. A picked 
escort from town to town, abundant teams of the small, 
wiry Tartar ponies, and all reasonable personal com- 
forts, enabled the long voyage to be easily withstood. 
Hermione, with her attendant Durand, was ever a cheer- 
ful ready traveler. The unfailing devotion of the old 
Prince made the trip a memorable one. Far from Pet- 
ersburg, the official shadow on the political “deported” 
rests very lightly. While the great wooded slopes of the 
Amoor glided by, Hermione resolved in her mind the 
choice of her permanent resting place. It was to be 
fixed by the Governor General of the Pacific Provinces. 
The old courtier Wittgenstein promised to make the 
road easy. Several weeks passed pleasantly. The eight 
hundred mile voyage down the river valley of the Ussuri 
to Vladivostock was the last stage of the long pilgrimage 
of the Polish Countess, and from there Durand easily 
smuggled the letters into the Japanese mail. General 


416 


FOR HER LIFE. 


Mouravieff was already agitating a pardon, by private 
letters to his friends. It was his own wish that Hermione 
should be near the sea in spring; so that, if the blessed 
“conge” should happily come she could return to San 
Francisco by steamer. The summer trip across Siberia 
is infinitely more fatiguing than the winter voyage; and, 
she would be free when once on a Japanese steamer. 
Rough wagons then take the place of the easy-gliding 
sleighs of winter in the homeward summer Siberian voy- 
ages. The two weeks’ voyage, through the beautiful val- 
leys, between the Amoor and Vladivostock, was soon 
achieved. Hermione, from the rounded hills of the 
Golden Horn, saw the blue Pacific, stretching out in one 
unbroken sheet to the shores of America, on an April 
day. The thinning snows were beginning to melt under 
the warm spring sun; and, the keen Durand found 
means to send out the welcome letters with these details 
which only increased our daily suspense. For, two 
loving hearts now beat in agony! 

A formal report to the Admiral commanding the port 
was the only reminder of her convict status. The fleet 
was all still moored in the double Golden Horn Bay, 
awaiting the spring opening of the river. So far, but 
one dispatch boat was yet in commission. The shallow 
inlets of the Tartary gulf were still frozen. One day 
sufficed to place Hermione in temporary comfort with 
her maid, in an offlciars family. 

Twenty thousand people live in a forgotten corner of 
the realm under the blue and white flag there. Army 
and navy officers, civil officials, merchants, artisans, Jap- 
anese, Chinese, and Coreans, with a few foreign traders, 
gave a cosmopolitan air to the “Gate of the East” — 
Mautchurian hunters, liberated convicts, political exiles, 
and hardy sailors thronged the busy streets. While the 
“Bonanza” was flitting around Hakodate, a bit of by- 
play was going on not far away! After Hermione’s 
day or so of rest, the courtly old Prince Wittgenstein 
dined with his fair charge. She was now only separated 
from help at Japanese ports by the narrow strip of the 
seas of Tartary. “I must leave you soon, Madame,” he 
remarked, as he sipped his cafe noir, “I shall have to 


FOR HER LIFE. 


417 


take the ‘Asia’ and go over next week to Saghalien. I 
wish to confer there with the new Commandant, Colonel 
Luboff, about the fortifications.” The. gallant Prince did 
not notice the tinkle of the egg shell China as Helene’s 
cup crushed in her hands! Colonel Luboff!— at Sagha- 
lien! Her quondam admirer, and Haxo’s spy! And, so 
Luboff was already there. The impressionable Colonel 
of the frontier! There are many ways to dazzle and to 
outwit not known to grim Russian Colonels. And, the 
prisoner bent her brows in thought. “How long has he 
been there?” quietly remarked the Countess. “Only a 
few weeks! He came out from Odessa by steam and 
then went over from Hakodate! He is only a couple 
of days’ sail from that port. In winter, they use Japan 
as a base of supplies, when we are frozen up here. There 
is no telegraph cable to Dui from here yet ! There will 
be one laid later!” The old Prince was unsuspicious of 
the emotions sweeping over his sweet prisoner now! 
Hermione’s eyes were gleaming. If she could only get 
to the headquarters at Dui, the old-time charm of her 
influence on Luboff might lull his suspicions; and, the 
schooner, it must be near. Here, at Vladivostock, with 
so many cruisers and the forts, it was evidently a forlorn 
hope to try and escape. But, at Dui, cut off without a 
telegraph! Woman’s wit has many wiles! It needed 
only a mere touch of flattery to induce the good-natured 
Prince to ask the transfer of Hermione, conditionally, 
to Saghalien Island. Her apparent reason was an aver- 
sion to the daily curiosity excited by her presence, and 
by the many special privileges allowed to her! Three 
days’ run brought the “Asia” to the anchorage off Dui. 
And, Hermione had carried her point! “It’s a lonely 
place!” grumbled the old Prince. Plere was the first 
penal colony of actual convicts Hermione had seen. A 
regiment of chosen soldiers, with many military settlers, 
kept in awe the dangerous malefactors. They were 
spared death for foul crimes of violence done in Russia, to 
work in the government coal mines. Their log huts and 
gardens were laid out on the bluffs, under the sweep of 
the rifled guns of the fort! In the open roadstead, ves- 
sels were forced to lie under spring cables to avoid the 
27 


418 


FOE HER LIFE. 


sudden spring storms, when coming in for coal. It was 
a purely military penal settlement. There was no civil 
custom house! No law existed, save the arbitrary will 
of the Commandant. An annual inspection was a mat- 
ter of mere form; and, the Commander was the local 
god here! The barge of Colonel Luboff soon boarded 
the Asia. She had rounded to, and dropped anchor 
under the frowning bluffs. A signal gun notified the 
garrison of her arrival. From the gracefully tapering 
main mast floated now the signal of “dispatches.” Col- 
onel Luboff, personally heretofore unknown to Prince 
Wittgenstein, was soon at his ease. Arranging for the 
disembarkation and reception of the Prince and his 
staff at the spacious and really luxurious headquarters, 
the Colonel was now ready to leave the ship. Seated 
in the cabin, over the customary cigarette and vodki, 
the Prince informed Colonel Ivan Luboff of the presence 
on the Asia of the lovely deportee. There were a num- 
ber of officers’ ladies at the post, — so the Prince gladly 
learned. Its seclusion was as bearable as that of any 
distant settlement, being so near Japan. The Prince at 
last presented the Colonel, who stared in a vague aston- 
ishment! Ignorant of the previous meeting of the two, 
it was a careless matter of detail to the old soldier; for, 
he would fain bear her back to Vladivostock. Hermi- 
one’s finger was on her lip when the Commandant 
sought to whisper a few words to her in private! And, 
so, Ivan Luboff had hopes! The Colonel's old infatua- 
tion was ruling him once more! He made a sign of as- 
sent, and then left for the shore, to convey the Prince 
and suite to their allotted quarters. The artful General, 
now, was more exhibited in Wittgenstein than the pleas- 
ure-loving nobleman. A professional inspection of the 
island would be made by sailing round it; for, he dared 
not risk his steamer long in the unsafe bay. After study- 
ing all the plans of the proposed fortifications, the vet- 
eran Commander proposed to run over to Hakodate for 
home dispatches. He would receive reports from the 
local Russian agents using the cable there. These acute 
representatives of the Czar, gathered up during the win- 
ter, bit by bit, a great many hints as to all the intended 


FOR HER LIFE. 


419 


illicit descents on the Siberian coast in the spring. The 
English, Japanese, and Hawaiian flag was often used to 
cover the illicit traffic of many schooners. They sought 
illicit trade in whalebone, sables, seal, and other furs; 
as well as walrus ivory, along the coast. In April, the 
swift, light steam cruisers of the Russian fleet were to be 
spread along the whole coast, to prevent the robbery of 
the natives, with barter of rum, arms and munitions. 
And, this was Prince Wittgenstein’s secret duty to ar- 
range. The American contingent of whaling pirates 
and schooners were adroitly directed from San Fran- 
cisco, sneaking over the Behring Sea under cover of our 
own islands. 

Colonel Luboff’s positive orders forbade him to leave 
Dui even for a day. The great responsibility of the com- 
mand was his alone. His engineer and several of his 
staff represented him on the voyage, as the advisers of 
the distinguished visitor. Prince Wittgenstein permitted 
Hermione to land, with her supposed maid and effects. 
The three weeks’ cruise around the island would busy 
the Asia. At the end of that period, the Prince, in his 
capacity of aide-de-camp of the Czar, could leave Her- 
mione at Saghalien. This would be subject only to the 
confirmation of his action by the Governor General at 
Habarofka. While we lingered over the last letters, in 
all the agony of a long suspense, the drama was unroll- 
ing its changing scenes far away at Saghalien! 

The Asia sailed, threading the dangerous Tartary 
Straits to the west and north. Her orders were to round 
the island by the east, and, after a call at Hakodate, re- 
turn through La Perouse Straits. The navigation was 
known to be doubly dangerous. The beautiful war ves- 
sel, built for a quick passenger steamer in America, by 
the Cramps, drew now twenty-six feet. The unsurveyed 
coast was full of sunken rocks and dangerous currents; 
and, the “Asia” stood well out to sea, and fleeted away 
on her voyage. The would-be fugitive was now. on the 
island of her choice. She was received by the family of 
the second in command, who had sailed with the Prince; 
for, the old courtier had given his orders. Seated m the 
spacious reception room of an immense log house, she 


420 


FOR HER LIFE. 


tremblingly said adieu to her old friend for a few weeks. 
She was trusting to fate, and to LubofFs blindness! Her 
secret guardian had generously offered to provide for 
her any articles needed at Hakodate. The falcon-eyed 
Hermione indited a note to Meyer and Euler, which was 
sent by the Prince, on the one dispatch vessel available 
at the island. It was a small auxiliary steam schooner 
of antiquated construction, which made a trip three times 
a month to Hakodate. This was used for carrying the 
mail and bringing over officials and small supplies. And, 
it took the news of his intended arrival at Hakodate to 
the consul. No other boat larger than a fishing dory 
was permitted on the island. In another month, a light 
steam cruiser would lie all summer at Colonel LubofFs 
orders off Dui, with her fires banked. Hermione’s inno- 
cent-looking letter was forwarded on the regular trip, so 
that all her goods could be ready, on the arrival of the 
“Asia.” 

It was with a warm feeling of gratitude and a flutter- 
ing heart the wanderer said “Au revoir” to the courtly 
old nobleman. He had tried with all his heart to soften 
her captivity. In three days after the departure of the 
missive — the waiting “Bonanza,” now docked, trimmed, 
and with a couple of Japanese pilots on board, glided out 
of Hakodate Bay. For, the letter was delivered, and it 
called to action! She stood in boldly to the Tartary 
Straits. Wrapped in a huge sou’wester, his flowing 
beard concealing his once-shaven face, none of his old 
naval friends could recognize Otto von Krusenstern, 
once a dandy naval lieutenant of the Czar, in the mate 
who stood by the young Yankee giant, Captain Barker. 
The hills of Japan dropped down in the southern haze. 
As a “middy” on a three years’ cruise, on Siberian coast 
guard duty, the young Finnish officer had learned every 
nook and inlet of the Asian coast, and the Kurile chain. 
And, the Vienna banker had sought him out as secret 
pilot of this runaway dash to sea! Hermione trusted to 
the resources and vast experience of the house of “Meyer 
& Euler.” There were many trade secrets locked up in 
the calm commercial exterior of the Baltic-bred chiefs of 
the firm. The cipher had enabled her to ask instant ac~ 


FOR HER LIFE. 


421 


tion, while the “Asia” was away. If the American ves- 
sel had not arrived, she informed them she would try 
and be smuggled off on a Japanese trading schooner. 
She could hide in the lonely “Kuriles” till a passing 
American whaler might touch. She might thus safely 
reach the Sandwich Islands. As long as Prince Wittgen- 
stein was in charge of the “Asia,” she knew that her 
flight would not be desperately followed. Her positive 
knowledge that “Otto von Krusenstern” was at Hako- 
date was the reason for urging immediate action. He 
had been dispatched at once to his post by that “Secret 
Order,” which was bound to follow, and shield the wom- 
an who had executed the most dangerous and important 
mission of the dark fraternity since the tragic death of 
the last Czar; — and, Durand had sent him her cipher 
greetings. The ex-Lieutenant was like all Finns, a sul- 
len enemy of Russia. He hated the great power which 
took his frozen land by the sword. He would use every 
energy to at once try to rescue his lady chief. Failure 
in this attempt meant her immediate departure for the 
interior, where she could never be reached by friends. 
And, so the fair woman at Dui had staked all on this one 
chance. 

Colonel Luboff, distrusting his subordinates, and al- 
ready chafing at his long exile from the higher social 
pleasures of Russia, — and of the Austro-German fron- 
tier, — disdained to be familiar with those under him. 
He had already made himself disliked as much as feared. 
Seated in his spacious official home, with every European 
luxury (so easily obtained from Odessa), the rooms dec- 
orated with priceless furs, and surrounded with books 
and all the small comforts of the educated gentleman, 
he thought of Hermione as the steamer sailed away. The 
“King of Saghalien” mused long over the strange chance 
which had thrown her in his power again.” Yes! she was 
alone, — in his power! — but only partially so! Would 
the Prince take her away? Powerful friends like Prince 
Wittgenstein, the Mouravieffs, and the Governor Gen- 
eral at Habarofka, would not countenance any extreme 
oppression of the haughty deportee! No! He must 
flatter and cajole her! It tempted him,— the game was 


422 


FOR HER LIFE. 


so near his hand! As for underhanded schemes, her 
dauntless nature was such that he knew death would 
take her far beyond his reach if he dared to menace her! 
He knew her too well! If he attempted any unwarranted 
advances, he might be assassinated! — for, she had 
friends! He knew and feared them! — for Obranovitch 
was dead! He knew well why! Why should he not 
marry her?’’ He turned the subject over in his mind, as 
he at last wended his way to the residence of his second 
in command. He would sound the feelings of the fair 
prisoner while yet alone here. Her natural dignity would 
prevent her from telling all to Wittgenstein! Yes! — he 
would try this plan! But, — the Czar’s permission! He 
could obtain it later, perhaps, — and with it General 
Haxo’s eternal hatred! Coloned Luboff paced down 
proudly to the rooms where Hermione awaited him. A 
bright hope that a nihilist bomb might “remove” General 
Haxo crossed his mind. There would then be marriage, 
— and another life before him! He dismissed this vain 
dream! His attentions to Hermione might be remarked 
by his jealous subordinates. The garrison was now 
honeycombed with secret schemes, ambitions, — and some 
of them were even secret nihilists. To secure “tete-a- 
tetes” with his inamorata presented some difficulty. Sev- 
eral days passed before he could find courage to act on 
the marriage. Hermione had received the Colonel with 
a gentle, womanly dignity. The gigantic soldier was no 
match, in social diplomacy, for the beautiful Polish Coun- 
tess. He blundered soon into frankness: — for his affec- 
tion was even eager and unreasoning. 

“Colonel,” said the lady, fixing her star-like eyes on 
him, “I can give you no answer to your proposition until 
I am free, — and have a hand to give. You must not 
expect to marry me without an Imperial permission, 
Could I give you my hand, as ‘a prisoner of state,’ and dis- 
grace you? Only Tn the name of the Czar!’ — you must 
wed! — for, you are a high officer: only the General’s rank 
is to be won ! I must await a pardon !” She was silent. 

“Madame!” said the Commandant, “I will now give 
you every liberty consistent with my duty. I hope that 


FOR HER LIFE. 


423 


Time will draw us nearer to each other. Trust to me, 
and, I will trust you! Let us be friends !” 

“Let us talk of this another day,” said the caged fal- 
con. “I can not remain here under conditions so at 
variance with your duty, — and all that I have still a right 
to preserve: — my own personal freedom of action is all 
I have left. Remember that I am a woman, — not a 
slave !” 

An hour of continued fencing followed, in which this 
subject was ever the one theme. The Colonel took his 
leave, feeling at last that his very honor as a soldier for- 
bade him pressing for an answer now; — and he feared 
Wittgenstein. She was — alas ! — a prisoner of state ! Her 
hands were tied ! — and his, too ! If she were only a con- 
vict, — ah! — then she would be his lawful prey! Her- 
mione watched him, as he strode down the walk. Her 
eyes could now reach the sweep of the blue Japanese 
Sea, smiling far away to the tropic south! Weary of the 
long struggle against Fate, her gaze was fixed far out on 
that ocean, where the wild winds war with the waves. 
For days she had waited for one signal there, — the Amer- 
ican flag as her signal of a speedy deliverance! Would 
it never come? 

One leap of her beating heart! — a mad throbbing of 
her bounding pulses! — around the wooded point the 
“swift Bonanza” swept into view, scudding along under 
a snowy cloud of canvas! She then swung into the open 
roadstead at “Dui.” Down dropped the sails, and the 
schooner was quickly moored to one of the great govern- 
ment buoys. A little roll of bunting slowly climbed to 
the masthead. She was breathless as she watched there. 
It broke out, at the main truck, into the lovely ensign 
of the free — the nonpareil beauty of the Heavens, — the 
old “Stars and Stripes!” 

The agitated woman burst into tears! Her quick eye 
had told her that the white stranger was no petty trader. 
Such vessels never were permitted to land at Dui. The 
three thousand convicts cooped up there might make a 
break for liberty, and some of them at last escape. Their 
nerve and daring had been proven by desperate men 
swimming the Tartary Straits on two logs lashed to- 


424 


FOR HER LlFH. 


gether with wild vines! They traveled, threading the 
gloomy forest, half starving, in search of an American 
ship. 

There were friends on that boat! How could she 
reach them ! It would be madness for them to seek her 
openly in the garrison! She too well knew Russians are 
the most acute spies in the world. Every Muscovite, 
high or low, watches all near, to observe what furtive 
schemes are dwelling under their conventional exterior. 
And, there was the schooner, and, alas! — she was help- 
less! Colonel Luboff, a “gentleman detective/’ — a Se- 
cret Section official spy, — could not be easily hood- 
winked. She must now find a way! It was hours she 
sat there, looking at the great white sea rover, and won- 
dering if she would ever tread those snowy decks. The 
only thing she now dared to do, was in company of the 
ladies of the house, — to show herself as near the landing 
and as often on the parade as possible. It would not be 
long before the name and character of the vessel would 
be known to her. It was equally true that any friends 
on the boat would prudently and cautiously seek to open 
communication. A sudden inspiration seized her. The 
adroit Durand was legally free! She could, perhaps, 
meet the sailors on their landing; — or even one of the 
commanders. But, every eye among the local spies 
would be on her. It was, at once, that Hermione, how- 
ever, sent out her cool, experienced aid-de-camp to gain 
news! 

While Durand was away, — the Polish Countess won- 
dered if she dare approach Colonel Luboff to aid her 
escape! Alas! no! His official position would suffer; — 
and, his passion was only too self-evident. His personal 
infatuation would make him cling to her, also, as her jail- 
er. Force was impossible. He must be outwitted! But, 
how? Any action should be immediate, — before the re- 
turn of the “Asia;” or the dispatch boat’s arrival from 
Hakodate! For, the “Asia” could easily overhaul the 
schooner, — and perhaps the dispatch boat might capture 
it! 

Madame Durand was soon back. The boat was an 
American yacht-built trading schooner from San Fran- 


FOR HER LIFE. 


425 


cisco! It was sent from “Meyer and Euler” at Hako- 
date to exchange its ballast cargo of salt for coal. The 
Russian government agent at Hakodate had promptly 
made the welcome purchase! The officers of the yacht 
were not, as yet, permitted to land. A Russian detach- 
ment was on guard continually on the decks. The “Bon- 
anza” also lay within half rifle-shot of the landing under 
the battery’s guns. A captain of police met all boat parties 
at the landing. He permitted no one from the boat to 
go through the garrison, — lest some English spy might 
note the defenses of the valuable coal depot. It was 
only the valuable salt cargo which had brought her over, 
as salt was a precious commodity! Hermione’s passion- 
ate heart leapt up! It was her own, this strange vessel, 
to direct at her will, — if she could only gain the decks. 
Long did the Countess ponder while she watched the 
busy swarms of weary convicts unloading the sacks of 
rock salt ballast. Alongside were already warped several 
coal barges. A day or two more would suffice to put the 
hundred tons of coal ballast on board. And, now, time 
was already flying on swiftest wings. 

Darkness settled down. From her own window, the 
prisoner could easily see the swinging masthead lights 
of the lovely strange craft. Twinkling through the cool 
spring evening shadows, — they were to her twin bright 
stars of Hope. A desperate resolution seized her. She 
would now use those fatal arts which had drawn all men 
to her feet when she was the all-enslaving, bewitching 
nihilist queen. It was the last chance for freedom! A 
note hastily scrawled was soon dispatched through Mme. 
Durand to the stately Colonel Luboff, as follows. And, 
the glittering bait was soon before him, — where he 
read eagerly the specious lines: 

“My Dear Colonel: — 

“I have already heard of the beauty of the American 
yacht, now here. I would like to see it. Will, you call 
and tell me if you can permit me to make a visit to it, — 
of course, under your escort?” 

It was only signed with an initial “H.” — yet it aroused 
him! It only needed this mere hint to inflame Colonel 


426 


FOR HER LIFE. 


Luboff’ s ardor. A golden opportunity for a “tete-a-tete' T 
of a couple of hours on board, — free from all the eager 
garrison gbssips, was, — very alluring. His orderly soon 
returned with a billet; — for he saw now the rosy gleams 
of an easy victory ! 

“Madame: — 

“I shall have pleasure in taking you in my own barge 
to see the yacht to-morrow at two o’clock, for the schoon- 
er sails day after to-morrow. I hope that you can accom- 
pany me at that hour. Yours, 

“Luboff.” 

Sleep visited not that night Hermione Oborska’s eye- 
lids! She was prepared to use the half of her fortune 
to bribe the commander of the boat, if need be; — but, 
Luboff must be outwitted! At noon next day, Her- 
mione was calm and serene, — while the Colonel had 
passed a sleepless night! He would, at last, rule the 
caged falcon! Wrapped in her heavy furs, she descended 
the stairway to the landing on the Colonel’s arm. Her 
heart sank as the successive sentinels saluted. Their rifles 
and the guns of the great tiers of batteries commanded 
the decks of the American schooner at long pistol range. 
It seemed hopeless to dream of an escape here in this 
armed death-trap! — and her heart throbbed in an ex- 
quisite agony! A twelve-oared barge, manned by ex- 
convicts, bearing the blue and white cross, swept along- 
side the “Bonanza.” Colonel Luboff was received at the 
ladder by Captain Bill Barker in his very best nautical 
style. Hermione’s eyes sought those of the young giant. 
He steadily returned her gaze. No sign of recognition 
was there. He was an utter stranger! The decks were 
slowly traversed! The loading was now nearly done. 
All was as neat above as in a lady’s boudoir! Proudly 
did Barker listen to the praises of the Commandant, who 
could, however, not be tempted to leave the lovely lady 
at his side. Patience! “Wait and Hope!” The Colonel 
asked carelessly for their destination. 

“We will go down to Nagasaki and then load with Ja- 
panese goods for San Francisco,” said Captain Bill, with 


FOE HER LIE'E. 


427 


a meaning* glance at the lovely lady;— and her bosom 
rose and fell in a newly-dawning hope. 

ihe quarter-deck and cabins were soon reached. As 
the party descended into the splendid and roomy main 
cabin, a seafaring man rose respectfully. 

My first mate, Captain Olsen/’ said Captain Barker. 
The tall sailor saluted Colonel Luboff. In an instant 
Hermione recognized “Von Krusenstern !” Swifter than 
the flight of an eagle, the grand hailing sign of the “Mys- 
terious Order” was exchanged ! And, this swift flyer was 
so her very own to command! Her jailer and her secret 
comrade faced each other in friendly discourse. The 
cabin seemed to whirl around her! The mate respectful- 
ly left the saloon, as Captain Barker proceeded to do the 
honors. Champagne!' Beloved champagne! It always 
touches the Russian’s heart and loosens his tongue! The 
Colonel was glad to hear the latest news by way of 
America. And, he received a bundle of welcome jour- 
nals in high glee! He had many questions now to ask 
of the sailor. While the cigars were being discussed, 
the quick-witted Hermione sought the deck for a few 
minutes ! There was but five or ten minutes to spare, un- 
observed. Countess Oborska seemed most deeply in- 
terested in the explanations of the tall mate, who now 
showed her various matters of seemingly lingering inter- 
est. He, keen as a flash, knew all her wishes when Col- 
onel Luboff and his host emerged from the main cabin. 
Ilermione’s suddenly evolved plan was an inspiration! 
Colonel Luboff was in excellent humor! Her friends 
knew all her plans! And, the tempting letter, with the 
floods of champagne, had blinded him! 

“Colonel,” said the fair prisoner, “what a beautiful 
ship! I should like to take a sail in her for a short dis- 
tance. She must move like a bird! I never saw so 
lovely a boat!” It afforded him a chance to display 
his local importance and lofty dignity! Now Lu- 
boff could not well make love before the two sail- 
ors, or his own boat’s crew! It was already the ear- 
lier season of nature’s awakening! A dozen or more 
miles away was the lighthouse of Dui Bay, on a lovely 
promontory called “Lookout Point,” — a splendid high 


428 


FOR HER LIFE. 


road from the fort to that matchless viewing place af- 
forded good sleighing in winter. Not loath to exhibit 
his official* power, the Colonel, made unusually amiable 
by his potations of his favorite wine, said : 

“Madame, if the Captain is willing, — we will sail down 
to-morrow, as far as ‘Lookout Point!’ I will send the con- 
veyances down there. We can then drive back to the 
fort. Captain Barker can easily land us in his boat. 
I will send a luncheon down, so we can enjoy the view, 
and see them stand out to sea!” 

Captain Barker was only too happy. The party were, 
however, requested to be on board by twelve, as the 
young commander wanted to get well off shore before 
dark! The calm, steady eyes of “Von Krusenstern” 
blazed, as he shook the fair hands of the lady when she 
descended to the official barge. Colonel Luboff was 
jolly. He was far too wise to interrupt his tete-a-tete 
next day, with the prying eyes of the garrison ladies. Her- 
mione’s maid, the sly Durand, would alone accompany 
her. Past the guards and grim cannons, the happy Coun- 
tess walked to her house, escorted by the delighted Col- 
onel. That night, Luboff dreamed of her dark love-lit 
eyes! Hermione heard only the song of the wild waves 
in her slumbers! — the song of Freedom! The two stanch 
friends on the “Bonanza” were ready, cool and taciturn, 
as true sailors ever are in face of danger! And, Her- 
mione’s eyes grew steely as she thought of one awful last 
resort. Morning dawned; the coy racing beauty tossed 
her head disdainfully, as the little rollers lifted her grace- 
ful sides. And, at eleven o’clock the sleepless watches 
of the night were forgotten by the smiling beauty who 
had at last evolved a little plan of woman wit! 

Leaving all her goods and baggage strewed carelessly 
around, with a merry “au revoir” to the envious garri- 
son gossips, Hermione descended the battery steps with 
her gleeful admirer. For, Luboff felt in his proud heart 
that his time had come! The quiet-faced Durand car- 
ried a little satchel. Papers and some money, to which 
she had clung, with a few small articles, were all. And, 
in that harmless-looking receptacle she had a last, pow- 


erful agent,— a mysterious friend —which was her own 
especial charge! Durand’s face was pale and stern! 

With demure stateliness, Countess Arline Oborska 
entered the barge! Escorted like a Princess, the Star of 
Poland trod, once more, the decks of the “Bonanza ; ” Ev- 
ery preparation was already made. The schooner was 
all ready, — shipshape and sailor fashion. The great white 
sails were flapping now, ready to catch the stiff breeze,— 
as the sturdy crew stood by. 

The police captain returned the schooner’s legally 
visad papers. A last bottle of wine was drank “to the 
Czars health’ and then the sentinels were withdrawn! 
The great barge slowly left the schooner’s side ! Captain 
Barker, bronzed and eagle-eyed, stood by the wheel, 
where the two Japanese pilots now obeyed his uplifted 
finger! At the foremast, the sturdy mate “Olsen” only 
waited the word. 

Up went the jib! — and the graceful boat swung slowly 
to her course! 

“Set your foresail, sir!” cried Barker. And, Colonel 
Luboff’s eyes shone in pleasure. 

“Aye! — aye! — sir!” was the mate’s response, — and the 
creaking blocks rattled as the foresail was quickly raised. 
Hermione was muttering, with trembling lips, “Which 
plan ?” 

The second mate stood by the bows, with two men to 
haul in the cable. A post boat was hanging on the buoy 
to cast them off. 

“Let go all!” was the anxious Yankee skipper’s order. 
The dainty “Bonanza” slowly gathered headway. At 
last, they were off! Watching at the huge mainsail, Mate 
Olsen on a nod now joined the men who sprang from the 
deck as they drew up the great sail. 

“All snug, sir!” cried the mate, — for the racer was now 
under a good headway, skimming along at twelve knots. 
Seated at the stern, Colonel Luboff complacently eyed 
the shore gliding by. His valet most obsequiously hand- 
ed the wine to the dreaming lady by his side. The Cap- 
tain and mate joined the happy Commandant in a glass 
to the successful voyage. “Ah ! I shall never forget this 
day,” cried Luboff, who was growing expansive. 


430 


FOR HER LIFE. 


There was a good-humored smile on Captain 
Bill Barker’s face, as he ran up his twelve- 
foot stars and stripes. Standing at the halyards, 
he dipped the flag of the free to the forts! The great 
blue and white war flag of Russia was dropped in cour- 
teous acknowledgment of the American’s salute. If Col- 
onel Luboff had been a practical yachtsman he might 
have noted that on the topmasts a cloud of racing can- 
vas was all ready to unfurl! The topsails, a balloon jib, 
and a big spinnaker, were there to catch the fresh breeze 
blowing off the virgin shores of the mysterious Siberian 
forests. In merry international converse, the flitting 
moments gayly passed ! Down in the cabin the party sat 
together at table! The white-winged racer was rising 
and falling on the curling waves. She drove along, 
swooping like a sea hawk into the curved bil- 
lows of the shallow strait! Colonel Luboff was 
overjoyed, for he looked forward to a delici- 
ously happy afternoon! In another hour, with the 
beautiful Hermione at his side, he would watch this fleet 
stranger bearing out into the Straits of Japan. And 
then! — he would tell the waiting story of which his heart 
was only too full; — the story of his deftly-laid plans! 
“Hermione must be his! Rank, — future, were nothing 
when he thought of the coming days of blissful love. He 
would make her life a dream now! He would marry her! 
He surely would gain her consent; — for, she was now 
helpless in his hands.” Your Swedes and Finns are great 
bottle men! The second mate and pilots were left in charge 
of the deck. “Olsen” kept the Colonel’s glass full, and 
he toasted deeply and often. A half-hour now would 
bring them to Lookout Point, — and the parting moment 
was near! The schooner’s boat was already towing 
astern. Hermione was positively merry. She was play- 
ing the star part now! Her maid had attracted the at- 
tention of the valet. They were on deck looking at the 
panorama. A nimble steward quickly uncorked the sil- 
ver-necked bottles, — and the fun was at its height! A 
day of days for the Colonel! Hermione saw the ap- 
proaching lighthouse gleaming white ahead,— while the 
amorous Colonel addressed his conversation more and 


FOR HER LIFE. 


431 


more warmly to her, — she cast a meaning glance on the 
Swedish steward. He then retired for a moment, to give 
some last orders to the steward. He returned, followed 
by the servant with a replenished tray ! 

“We must soon say good-bye, Colonel!” said the jovial 
mate; “will you try some of our California champagne? 
I have some of an excellent vintage; — and, we pride our- 
selves on it!” 

“With all my heart,” exclaimed the joyous Com- 
mandant. “To your successful voyage, Captain!” he cried, 
raising his foaming glass. While bending his eyes on 
Hermione, he whispered a few burning words, embold- 
ened by his libations. And, she was ready with all her 
womanish witcheries! There was triumph in his eyes! 
The glasses rang merrily. In three minutes, Ivan Luboff, 
“His Russian Majesty’s Governor of Saghalien, was in a 
sleep which seemed to be a paralysis; — for, “poppy and 
mandragora” had brought him helpless to his fair ene- 
my’s feet! 

Hermione’s ruse was successful! The gallant Colonel 
was heavily drugged! .At once, while he was laid 
away on a couch, Crocker sprang to the wheel. 
The disguised mate then assisted Hermione to 
the deck. On, — out past the lighthouse point, — the 
lovely yacht sped away like a startled deer. The Col- 
onel’s anxious valet was careful enough to now remind 
Madame Durand that they were passing the place of 
landing. 

“We are running too far down the bay!” he remarked, 
though loath to break off his dalliance on the deck. 

“We will run on a little and then, come about,’’ said 
the mate, who now found time to whisper to Durand to 
keep the too curious factotum in a muddle of Muscovite 
flirtation. A half-hour from the moment when the last 
cup was pledged to the Czar, the dainty “Bonanza” ran 
in, under a point six miles from the light. Captain Bar- 
ker, with an amused smile, noted a warning signal flying 
now from Lookout Point. He also saw the puffs of a 
distant gun from that battery. It means chase, — and, — 
danger! 

“Just out of range!” he laughed, as the “Bonanza” 


FOR HER LIFE. 


432 

plunged on. “Now, quick! Look alive !” he cried to his 
crew. The schooner’s cutter was hauled forward. At a 
signal from the “Yankee giant” half a dozen men car- 
ried the unconscious Colonel to the side of the schooner ! 
The valet howled when he saw this, — but the cold muzzle 
of a Colt’s frontier pistol was pressed to his head! Be- 
hind it was the calmly resolute Barker! 

“Get into that boat!” sternly ordered the mate; — and 
the valet followed his insensible master, who lay, spread 
out, like a hibernating bear! 

“Give way lively, now!” cried Von Krusenstern, as he 
quickly sprang to the tiller. In ten minutes, the boat was 
back and swinging at the davits. 

Colonel Ivan Luboff was now lying on shore under a 
tree in comfortable unconsciousness, — while the frantic 
valet was running up and down the beach. The schoon- 
er’s head swung round and the sails filled in a jiffy. The 
mate alertly sprang to his station. Hermione’s face was 
hidden, as she stood there with her head on the bosom 
of the delighted Durand ! In her hand she grasped a re- 
volver ! 

“Death before his touch!” she whispered. Her face 
was now ghastly pale! 

The “Bonanza” veered to her course outward for 
America ! The sails drew with a snap. When the newly- 
set topsails were at last sheeted home, — like a water- 
witch, she defiantly tossed her beautiful head and raced 
off, stretching away to La Perouse inlet, like an ocean 
greyhound. 

The mask was off at last! Von Krusenstern and Bar- 
ker were now laughing by the side of the excited Coun- 
tess. 

“Give us only one hour to pass that last headland, and 
then the “Asia” herself, can’t catch us! Madame!” said 
the young Captain. “You are at home here, under the 
stars and stripes; — for you are going to sleep to-night 
on blue water, — a free woman!” 

Arline Oborska’s tears were streaming from happy 
eyes, as she grasped the bold sailor’s hands. 

“Don’t you worry a moment,” he bluntly said. “There’s 
not a man here who will not die for you!” And Bill 


FOR HER LIFE. 


433 


Barker’s face grew set and stern as he watched that last 
danger point. 

Von Krusenstern conversed calmly with the over- 
wrought prisoner, who saw the wooded shores gliding by 
as in a dream. Far in the rear puffs of smoke now 
showed that the battery was loudly giving the general 
alarm! Barker, glass in hand, anxiously swept the lonely 
expanse of water ahead, — for dangerous shoals and cur- 
rents abounded there! In three hours the yacht would 
make the open seaway. Once in the offing, all pursuit 
would then be vain. Hermione was soon hidden in the 
cabin, attended by her brave woman companion. In an 
hour the last point would be rounded and the straits en- 
tered. The “Bonanza” would be out of the Russian in- 
closed waters, and then could not be stopped! The 
“Asia,” too, was far away. It was a godsend, — her op- 
portune absence. A gray mist was rising now, and a 
double lookout was kept ahead. Barker hauled down his 
American flag! The only possible danger was from the 
armed dispatch boat, now on her return from Hakodate ! 
It was the last chance against them, — the last risk to 
run! 

“Sail ho!” cried the lookout! Barker and his mate 
sprang up at the warning cry. 

“Where away?” yelled the Captain. 

“The starboard bow, sir! Small steamer!” was the 
eager response. 

Great Heavens! It was, indeed, the dispatch boat! 
She carried small arms and a crew of twenty-five, with 
a rifled ten-pounder gun. “Would she speak them?” It 
was the burning question! — and all too soon answered, for 
a puff of smoke shot out from the vessel’s quarter, as she 
toiled along in the rising mist;— and the roar of the gun 
came hoarsely bellowing over the sea! A fluttering sig- 
nal went up to her masthead. She had seen the flashes 
of the battery guns! — and, the hand of the Czar,— the 
iron hand, — was reached out for his prisoner now! 

“How fast can she sail and steam?” was the Captain’s 
rapid query to Krusenstern. The mate said: . „ 

“She can do about twelve knots at her best, sir!” 

“Then,— by God!— we must run for it!” cried Bill, as 
28 


434 


FOR HER LIFE. 


he set his colors half-way up on the foremast shrouds as 
an answer to delay the fire. Hermione’s anxious face ap- 
peared at the cabin door. She was ashy pale. She saw 
all at a glance. And, now the cannon spoke again, and a 
shell came skipping over the waters! They were not 
fooled by Barker’s trick with the flag! 

“Captain, I will throw myself overboard before I go on 
that boat!” she cried; “or, use this!” — and Barker only 
smiled as he snatched the revolver from her trembling 
hands. 

“Don’t fret, dear lady; just keep below!” cried the 
resolute young Captain. He motioned to Durand to take 
her mistress down, and sent a steward to try and conceal 
them if necessary. 

“The Lazaretto !” sharply yelled Barker. “Cover them 
with the old sails! I’ll throw these devils off the track! 
All hands, now,” was his ringing command. The excited 
men gathered at fore and main mast. The dispatch boat 
dropped her sails, and slowed down her engines, as she 
lay balancing on the waves a quarter of a mile away; — 
for the “Bonanza” had come up in the wind. The little 
cruiser was black with men now! From her sides, a boat 
was soon lowered, and six men began to pull swiftly over 
the freshening sea. Sweeping up to the position for 
laying to, every man on the schooner was at his post. 
The mist came down with a sweep, and the sea freshened, 
as the steamer swung idly, with just steerage way, Bar- 
ker gazed with an eagle eye, measuring the positions of 
the two boats! 

“Let go that spinnaker!” he suddenly cried, his voice 
ringing like a bugle call. “Now, — lively with the bal- 
loon-jib!” — and, as a second gun rang out, the “Bonan- 
za” tore by at a fifteen-knot speed on the outward track. 
The steamer’s funnel soon gave out clouds of smoke, as 
she swung slowly around, and her sails were set for the 
breeze. But, she had lost a precious ten minutes! The 
great Japanese current favored the audacious “Bonanza.” 
If the steamer could not cross the yacht’s bows, then all 
was safe. 

t The fog banks lifted, as a bitter breeze blew off the 
land. The racer quivered, bounding along under the 


FOR HER LIFE. 


435 


strain of her enormous canvas. Would the masts hold? 
— for, they groaned under the mighty strain ! 

“If we don’t blow the sticks out of her, half an hour 
now, will tell the whole story,” said Captain Bill, his teeth 
clenched as he glared at the Russian dispatch boat, — now 
pouring out densest smoke. There was no further fir- 
ing, for the gun was useless while the course was held 
by the pursuer. With his glass, Barker saw the nonde- 
script crew huddled around the gun, as the “Bonanza” 
came in range, seeking a channel. The steamer sudden- 
ly fell off, and then a sheet of bright flame darted from 
her side. There were no blank cartridges now. It was 
a double charge and cut-fused shell! A shrieking bolt 
passed whistling along near by, skipping along and tear- 
ing up the leaden-colored water. The race of the flying 
“Bonanza” was now for life and death. Every rise to the 
swell, she quivered like a panting race-horse. It was pris- 
on to all and death to Hermione if overtaken! For, Lu- 
boff’s vengeance would be shame, and a blotting out 
from all human ken! 

Von Krusenstern, his rugged face dark and gloomy, 
said: “She’ll lose her masts, sir!” 

Captain Bill glared as he shook his fist, now, at the 
laboring pursuer, in defiance. For, only a random shot 
or two followed, as a great tongue of fog pushed for- 
ward by the meeting breezes soon hid the cruiser from 
sight. The God of the Fog and Storms had fought for 
them! The “Bonanza” was tearing along in blue water 
beyond the mist. 

“Thank God, we’re off the point!” cried Barker, for 
the Japanese pilot now changed the schooner’s course, — 
heading for the open Pacific! They had passed the shal- 
lows, and the pursuer was blanketed in there, among the 
dangerous reefs and shoals ! 

“Take in all your light sails,” ordered the Captain. All 
hands sprang to the ropes. “We can beat the whole Rus- 
sian fleet now!” laughed Barker, as he went below. In 
twenty minutes, the queen of the Pacific was slipping 
smoothly along under jib, foresail and a reefed mainsail, 
standing out to the Pacific. Darkness was coming quick- 
ly down. Captain Bill gave an approving glance, as he 


436 


FOR HER LIFE. 


noted all snug for the night. He went below to give 
Madame Hermione her last look of Siberia! Away to the 
lee, a jagged, rocky point was the extreme end of Sagha- 
lien! 

“You’ll never see it again!” cried the happy Barker; 
“unless in your dreams! So, — good-bye, brother Lu- 
boff!” 

The cruiser was soon feeling its way back toward “Dui,’ ? 
as it could not carry the coal for a long chase! It was 
weak and unfit for the shock of Arctic seas. And as 
night fell, there was an angry, infuriated man seated 
alone at the Commandant’s house in the fortress on the 
island. Raging in vain! — for, Colonel Luboff’s fright- 
ened valet had handed him a little note. It had been 
given to him by the so-called “Mate Olsen.” In Countess 
Oborska’s own handwriting were penciled these words : 

“Colonel Luboff: — 

“Forgive my little ruse! I had to use an innocent de- 
ception ! Love is sweet, — but, Liberty I must have, even 
at the price of Life itself! Adieu! My cordial thanks to 
Prince Wittgenstein. Forgive and forget, 

“Your prisoner, 

“Hermione de Vries.” 

Recovering from the effects of the drug, — his bound- 
less rage was perfectly impotent! He had now lost the 
fair woman he loved, — the one whose wit had foiled 
him through his own ardent passion! She was now the 
“Bride of the Winds!” In the early night watches, the 
arriving dispatch boat reported the unsuccessful chase 
of a suspiciously-acting schooner. The “Asia” would 
not be in for a long ten days. By that time, the “ocean 
rover” would be two thousand miles at sea; — and Ivan 
Luboff was now forced to concoct some “ghost story” 
to account for the loss of his prisoner; — and he feared 
the stern Prince Wittgenstein’s wrath ! 

Luboff’s pride kept him reticent. While he tossed on 
his bed of sickness, — still suffering from the powerful 
drugs, — the whole garrison was laughing at the baffled 
Lothario! In the spacious cabin of the “Bonanza,” — far 


FOR HER LIFE. 


437 


out at sea, — Hermione slept the untroubled sleep of free- 
dom ! God’s own bright stars were looking kindly down 
on her there, — rocked on the wild waves. Durand was 
in ecstasies over the forethought of the secret friends in 
sending supplies; — Von Krusenstern had also most 
thoughtfully furnished silken robes and Japanese goods, 
with all the articles the two women needed for a month’s 
voyage. He was not a man to fail in his quest. The 
cabin was devoted to these two now happy members of 
the weaker sex. Bill Barker, over a glass of stiff sea 
grog, sat at ease in the sailing master’s cabin with Von 
Krusenstern. The fact that he was likely to win that 
double salary, and also have a “big run” on his own ac- 
count, made him particularly cheerful. He laughed with 
his companion, as they recalled the mad efforts of the 
little dispatch boat to overhaul them! 

“If a stray shot had touched one of our sticks, though, 
we would have gone in for a life sentence in the coal 
mines!” said the Yankee giant. Von Krusenstern was 
gravely silent. He thought, with a slight chill, that an 
unavoidable recognition of him (inevitable, if sent on 
to Vladivostock for trial), would have made him at once 
a target for a dozen Cossack riflemen on the hillside at 
the Golden Horn ; — for, there is no “revision of sentence” 
there ! 

Morning, bright and fair, dawned. Under the five- 
mile sweep of the great Japanese current, the “Bonanza” 
drove merrily along at sea under all her canvas. Cap- 
tain Bill was determined to make an offing as long as he 
could carry sail. Seated on the deck, with the letters from 
a new friend, my Philadelphia “Blue Eyes” — and conning 
my own dispatches, the ocean wind fanned Hermione’s fair 
cheek with all the ardent kiss of a wooing lover! Look- 
ing backward, toward the dim west, where the shadows of 
the saddened past lay behind her, — the fair lady wondered 
whither the fates were leading her! No longer a de- 
jected, anxious schemer, — her lovely brow was lit up only 
with the rosy flush of morning, — as the gallant little 
water sprite danced along over the waves. She was 
free! And, in the sigh of the willing winds, one beloved 


438 


FOR HER LIFE. 


name was echoing now! — for, Trepoff waited for her 
afar, in the land of snows and ice! 

It was with a roar of incredulous laughter that Prince 
Wittgenstein received the news of Hermione’s flitting, 
when the “Asia” steamed into Hakodate Harbor. The 
dispatch boat had instantly returned there to give the 
alarm. Prince Wittgenstein now gravely counseled with 
the Commander of the “Asia,” who assured him that he 
dared not follow her out to sea; and, in fact, the chase 
was useless! 

“I have my orders,” said the blunt old sailor. “What 
matters it one woman more or less, at Saghalien? Lu _ 
boff must console himself with another!” 

The philosophic old nobleman called on Colonel Lu- 
boff, however, for a written report, on his return. This 
was most admirably handled. Colonel Luboff suppressed 
one-half of the facts, and then, the Prince promptly pig- 
eon-holed the other. He was clear, — and Luboff was 
the scapegoat! It was vaguely rumored in St. Peters- 
burg that an American trader had been bribed to rescue 
the lady by her nihilist friends. So much for History! 
But, Luboff dreamed dreams and saw strange visions of 
coming trouble! General Haxo would be a relentless 
foe! 

The conservative Meyer and Euler assured the Rus- 
sian Consul of their entire innocence. They supposed a 
heavy bribe had been, perhaps, used with the Captain; 
and yet, the Danish cable bore, that same day, the fol- 
lowing brief announcement to me, — making my heart 
bound with joy: 

“Grahame, — San Francisco: — 

“Your passenger safely shipped. Managing partner 
on board. ‘Bonanza’ at sea. Watch at San Francisco 
for her. 

“Meyer and Euler.” 

And they haughtily faced the angered Russian Minis- 
ter at Tokio, stating that they had no responsibility for a 
merely casually consigned vessel! With this, they stern- 
ly sealed their lips! 


FOR HER LIFE. 


439 


Life at San Francisco had gained a new charm! The 
arrival of this dispatch made us wild with delight. I sent 
instantly a cablegram to Vienna to the agent, adding 
prudentially, ‘‘Forward this to Russia by letter.” Her- 
mione had now been on the waters ten days. Aided by 
the home current, twenty more would bring the ocean 
bird skimming along past the Tarallones. If Fortune fa- 
vored, — and — Dimitri Trepoff ! — where was he lingering? 
Would this sensational departure work him harm? — I 
feared so! 

In ten days I received the following: 

“St. Petersburg. 

“Grahame, — San Francisco: — 

“Returned well. Report ready two weeks. Is news of 
Hermione authentic? Answer. 

“Dimitri Trepoff.” 

I instantly replied in the affirmative, adding: “Here 
in a fortnight!” Two days brought me the expected re- 
ply, — for I knew both the man and the lover. 

“Grahame, — San Francisco: — 

“Will apply six months’ leave. Coming. I know all 
now. Keep my arrival secret. Will dispatch from New 
York. Address ‘Brunswick, — New York.’ 

“Dimitri.” 

It seemed to me that I could hear again the clash and 
merry jingle of brave cousin Serge’s wedding bells,— 
borne afar on the breeze from the far-off land of Peter. 
Dimitri was now to be for life the captive of his Fair 
Prisoner! 

Most slowly did the days crawl by, as, with my bride 
wife an active sympathizer, I waited yet. Time stays not 
his fleeting foot! I had carefully notified the marine re- 
porter to telegraph me of the very first sight of the white- 
winged flyer. The “Oceanic,” coming from Japan, re- 
ported, “Sighted sch’r ‘Bonanza’ as spoken 300 miles 
out,” and on the morning of the second day after, the dis- 
patch came: “‘Bonanza’ ten miles out. lo gain the 


440 


FOR HER LIFE, 


wharf and, with my eager wife, steam out to the Heads 
in a quick tug was as rapidly done as possible! Lying 
there just out of the entrance of the Golden Gate, — the 
storm-tossed sea-bird was awaiting a tug from the Bar. 
There was no mistaking her. We steamed swiftly for her, 
and, as we neared her, — glass in hand, — I could make 
out two women on deck. We dipped our flag in wel- 
come! As we did, a thirty-foot whip-pennant unfolded 
its silken folds at the mainmast. A few moments brought 
us alongside! As I leaped over the low schooner rail, 
Hermione stepped toward me, the “brightest eyes” filled 
with sparkling tears of joy. I handed her the first offer- 
ing of America’s roses, which my wife had brought! In 
a few moments the young matron and her ocean guest 
were clasped in each other’s arms! Captain William 
Barker strode up, — and, as his horny palm closed on my 
eager grasp, he said : 

“Mr. Grahame, I’ve brought your angel home to you! 
I kept my word! She is an angel, too! The boat has 
been just as lucky as the lady is pretty! — God bless her!” 

Captain Von Ivrusenstern, standing there with the hap- 
py Durand, was now welcomed, also! Our side lines 
were made fast, — and, it was a symposium of unre- 
strained jollity that followed — a California love feast! 

We swept into the glorious panorama of the great oc- 
cidental harbor. As we passed Fort Point, Captain Bill 
brought up the silk flag which the old sea dog Knox 
had given him! In a few moments it was reeved on the 
halliards. As the lovely folds floated out on the breeze, 
it was raised by the fair hands of the two happy ladies. 
As soon as the flag was at the peak, Captain Bill said, 
timidly, with all Yankee sailor’s pride: 

“Countess! you’ll stay under this flag, now, won’t you? 
For, the Russian knout does not go here! This is the 
very land that longs for you!” 

“Captain Bill,” replied the smiling beauty, “I will not 
keep you in any needless anxiety! I renounce the Czar 
of Russia! You found me on the sea, sir! You can bap- 
tize me now as an American at heart, to the end of the 
chapter!” 

Down in the cabin, we made a frolicsome party. The 


FOR HER LIFE. 


441 


sparkling wine which had proved Luboffs ruin, was 
poured in honor of good old Father Neptune— but with- 
out any “chemical” flavor a la Luboff! Captain Bill 
Barker and his gallant sailor brother Krusenstern, — 
Mouravieff and the friends far away,— were remembered' 
The gallant and courtly Wittgenstein, and even the ama- 
tory Colonel Luboff, were toasted by the two merry beau- 
ties. It was an hour of rapture! 

I can understand Luboff!” said Krusenstern, with a 
sigh — “and — forgive him!” 

Last, but not least, as we swung to off North Point at 
the yacht anchorage, — when the customs officer stepped 
on board, — I filled up a brimming beaker! The whole 
circle round me poured out a libation, in which we all 
joined with merry hearts,— even the staid Durand, who 
was now a general favorite. When the anchor rattled 
down, I gave a bottle of wine to our new fair American 
citizen, who broke it on the brass rail of the dainty, dash- 
ing “Bonanza.” 

“The prosperity of the 'Bonanza/ queen of the Pacific, 
the flying wonder of the West,” was drunk with joy by 
all; — and Captain Barker blushingly spoke for his pet. 
The crew responded with three cheers;— lor Countess 
Arline, imperious and sparkling in her new-found hap- 
piness, had asked Captain Bill to call all the men aft. An 
extra month’s pay and a donation of the wherewithal to 
repeat the toast to the dainty yacht made the men raise a 
ringing cheer for the Lady of the Mist! 

The curling ripples lapped the sharp cutwater of our 
“Bonanza,” as we left her. The voyage had been strange- 
ly propitious! The steady old second mate was left in 
charge. Soon our party reached the shore. Stepping 
on the soil of free America, Arline Oborska left the woes 
of her life forever behind her! — for the voice of no pur- 
suer echoed on the freshly-blowing western winds now! 
It was a luxury of happiness for us to stop at the tele- 
graph bureau, as we drove to the hotel. Arline, herself, 
telegraphed all her own friends, as well as her faithful 
agent at Vienna! 

Durand sent a message whose destination was the 
highest “Secret Circle of the Order,” for my ocean-re- 


442 


FOR HER LIFE. 


stored “Star of Poland” had left that page of her life 
turned down forever! She was “out of the shadows of 
the night!” At our little dinner the queer distribution of 
Arline’s scattered effects was a source of many witticisms. 
Trepoff had sent all her goods back from Petersburg to 
Vienna. Colonel Luboff was possessed of her traveling 
outfit, to sigh over in his lonely hours, and the woman 
side of the nature of my goddess was seen in a threatened 
expedition with my Blue Eyes, to gather plumage for our 
“stormy petrel.” For, her coquetry suddenly returned, and 
this, to me was prophetic of Trepoff’s sudden appearance ! 
Did I know all? I was willing to be gently hoodwinked 
now! The first dinner was over. One name alone had been 
left unspoken! Serge and Vera, the lovely Mouravieff, 
Madame Komaroff, our loyal Zastrows! Justine, far 
away, — and all our friends, — were remembered! Still 
on the threshold of speech lingered star-eyed Memory 
waiting there! I saw that the proud woman would not 
speak the one beloved name! For, there was a wistful ten- 
derness in her smile, a far-off look in her shining eyes. 
I proposed the health of “the absent,” and as her dreamy 
eyes met mine, I whispered, “Trepoff!” She trembled 
like a leaf in the storm! A rosy flush lingered on her 
exquisite cheek, — a shadow as when the sunlight tinges 
are glowing on the Jungfrau peak! She then bowed the 
queenly head, — and drank in silence to her lover! 

Days of pleasantness and peace were upon us all now! 
The lovely Arline was out one fair story-teller! Occu- 
pied in all the rearrangement of her affairs with the local 
agent of her Viennese representative, she soon took up all 
the threads of her various interests, and I waited, 'vaguely, 
for some happy chance now to break away to the hang- 
ing of the crane in my Philadelphia home. 

With my wife as a companion, our visitor soon became 
familiar with all the attractions of the great city by the 
Golden-Gate; — and I was free at last to wonder and to "wait! 
For, Trepoff was still silent! The fair wanderer’s brow 
grew thoughtful! Our evenings now were all too short! 
Listening to the recital of her adventures, we followed 
the friend of our adoption over the great Urals, through 
the great Asiatic plain and the great passes of the huge 


FOR HER LIFE. 


443 


border river of Siberia, down the mighty Amoor. It 
had been a “personally conducted” tour which amazed us 
in its glimpses of sunshine and of shade. Hermione re- 
called with gratitude the untiring kindness of the Moura- 
vieffs, who had given to her a sheltering home at Ir- 
kutsk. The fortunate fatuity of Luboff had left all her 
friends uncompromised! — and the burly lover’s shoul- 
ders were broad! 

I recognized with joy in Prince Wittgenstein a courtly 
old General I had met before in continental Europe. He 
was well-known in every club in Germany and France, — 
and had recalled our acquaintance when Helene told 
him of the varied phases of the fated expedition, which 
made her a state prisoner in Siberia. I knew he was sly 
enough! Had he only sailed away to let Luboff fall 
clumsily into the trap? 

The merry Countess laughed now at the idea of all her 
past discomforts. “Siberian yarns are children’s buga- 
boos!” she merrily said. “No reasonable person need 
dread that overland voyage, especially when speaking 
the language, or furnished with the usual government 
road passports! I found,” said she, “that the travel to 
and fro was regular, and not even particularly disagree- 
able, for those accustomed to long, winter voyages. As 
for the Russians, hardy and able to adapt themselves 
easily, they laugh at it!” 

From Irkutsk, Arline could have easily reached Ki- 
achta, — and then, escaped by Pekin and China, but she 
would not leave a stain on General Mouravieff’s official 
honor. Her resolution to separate Major Trepoff entire- 
ly, from her secret plans, was due to the personal repre- 
sentation of the Empress, by. the young inspector. His 
name was too dear to her to involve him in the slightest 
suspicion of connivance. We marveled at the brave wom- 
an’s independence of soul,— her daring, high-spirited 
conduct! But, she merrily laughed at Luboff ’s coming 
troubles! “He would indulge in love-making,” she said. 
“Dangerous for a jailer!” 

Woman’s wit with love as a guiding star can be a 
magic charm, — even in Siberia, — and Luboff had a 
heavy score to pay off now! 


444 


FOR HER LIFE. 


Letters came soon. I quietly sent a dispatch to the 
“Brunswick, — New York” to await Dimitri’s arrival; — 
and I managed to hold my lips in silence! The days 
happily glided away, — as we all awaited a mysterious 
something! The next China steamer brought a witty, 
but tender letter from the gallant old Prince Wittgen- 
stein, to my care. He evidently well knew whither the 
swift white wings bore away the lovely wanderer. And 
Meyer and Euler gladly sent it on ! Playfully reproaching 
her with her desertion, the old nobleman closed his mis- 
sive : 

“My Dear Child: If the words of an earnest friend can 
give you useful counsel, let me now ask you to bury 
your past in a new life in America! Your delicate spirit 
can not battle with the wars of human empire and the 
inevitable death-grapple of systems. Your friends here, 
our Irkutsk circle, will wish you many years of happiness! 
The beloved country you have lost, you will find again 
in that embodied aspiration of the whole world for lib- 
erty, — the United States of America! Live your life now 
for yourself and your loving friends ! I think that I can 
look down the avenue of the future and see many happy 
days awaiting you! I will not say farewell, — 1 for your 
memory will haunt me, your face be near me, always! 
You sweet eyes are ‘unforgotten!’ I can not hope to 
say ‘au revoir,’ — for, I am an old man, and our paths lie 
far apart. I have tried to lighten your sorrows as far as 
I could while you were with me. I now kiss your fair 
hands in adieu. I send you an old man’s respectful de- 
votion! I say no more! I am no prophet, but life has 
every bright, alluring prospect before you yet. The im- 
perial years are still yours! Remember me kindly to 
your steadfast friend, Grahame, whose pleasant friend- 
ship I hope to always retain. Tell him from me, to keep 
out of the bear’s clutches now. Command me ever, as 
always, Your faithful, 

“Wittgenstein. 

“P. S. — I suppose I will have to try and find a wife 
for poor Luboff, — who seems to have no luck in love! 
But, he does well at cards! W.” 


FOR HER LIFE. 


445 


joyous letters came soon from Serge and Vera; for the 
electric spark had been faithful, and, similar greetings 
poured in from all our devoted ones; and, still no sign 
from Trepoff! A few days more passed in a veiled 
agony. I received his secret New York dispatch to 
me. His arrival was announced and immediate depar- 
ture for the West. I was bidden to hold this sacredly a 
secret. I knew too well the pride and tenderness which 
would keep the manly soldier from claiming as a debt 
the love which he craved to win from a free woman. 
And, the falcon’s wings were not clipped now! She was 
a loving goddess in waiting ! Our mariners were all soon 
disposed of. Captain Bill Barker was now the happy 
possessor of his double compensation. The remainder 
of the charter was also presented to him. In two weeks, 
accompanied by Von Krusenstern, he took the water 
witch quietly away toward the northward! His own 
chosen men went with him. I am afraid that some rich 
sables and glossy otter skins I saw later in the fall, were 
an unconscious present from the Emperor of Russia! 
Sundry thousands of seal skins also looked as if they 
came from the Komandorski group; but, the taciturn 
Captain Bill maintained always that he “found them!” 
So he did, and he was very careful not to let the cruisers 
of the Czar find him while finding them! The magic 
“Bonanza” was painted a glossy black on this visit, and 
carried topsails, prudentially. She disclaimed any kin- 
ship with the white rover which carried away Luboff’s 
prospective bride, as all her dainty racing rig was now 
laid away! She was the fishing schooner “Restless, of 
Yokohama,” on this cruise; and, a very willful witch! 
My personal jealousy of Madame la Comtesse Arline 
was such that my “Blue Eyes” knew from my small 
curtain lectures. I feared I had now lost all influence. 
For, she was soon strangely shy and reserved, even with 
me! I received a dispatch soon to meet Trepoff at Sac- 
ramento; and, I did steal away! I was successful in de- 
fying these two women of genius — my new wife and her 
adopted sister. I stole away and soon met the tall dis- 
tinguished-looking foreigner, who was now shorn of the 
panoply of war. Even “the great white cross” was ab- 


446 


FOR HER LIFE. 


sent from the soldier’s breast. It was an incognito, for 
the Russian Consul General was eager and sharp eyed. 
Dimitri was the very incarnation of health and spirits! 
The four hours’ voyage to the city was all too short 
for our colloquies. We approached the cozy nest 

of our graceful captive, and made a silent de- 

scent thereon! We threaded the corridors of 
the great hotel. As we drew near to our apart- 
ments, I heard Arline’s thrilling voice. We stole 

into my room, and the eager Trepoff paused and grew 
pale. The man who had boldly faced the Turkish sabers 
quivered like a leaf as her voice rang out in a passionate 
appeal. For, he knew that voice spoke to him alone! 
The rippling music of the keys bore on its bosom her 
waiting sigh for the loved one whom her lips would 
not name! The song we heard now was one that she 
had sung once to us on the Admiralty quai by the Neva 
— an old Tzigane air. I stole to the door and softly 
opened it! The exquisite melody died away in a sigh. 
Her face, turned away from the portal, was buried in 
her hands! Laying my hand lightly on her shoulder, I 
said, “Arline!” Her wondering eyes met mine. She 
read their veiled promise, and sprang lightly to her feet. 
“In the name of the Czar!” said I, as Dimitri passed me. 
The pilgrims of love were in each other’s arms ! And, I 
had vanished before he spoke, as she lay sobbing on his 
breast ! I stole away in search of my bride. It was some 
time when we were called in by the radiant Major. For 
their joy must needs be shared with those who held her 
dear. Arline received me with her drooping lashes veil- 
ing those splendid eyes, which had gazed so sadly out on 
the lonely Siberian snows. But, in their clear depths, 
when she raised her stately head, I could read that Di- 
mitri Trepoff’s question had been answered at last! In 
all the loving pride and tenderness they showed me, as 
they rested on the “brother of her adoption,” her “fellow 
prisoner,” there was a reward for my wasted months. 
For, I loved the man to whom she had now sworn to 
give back a life for a life! I could see no shadow of a 
parting, for their love had been tried as by fire, and the 
Czar’s soldier had gained his proudest victory! Palace 


FOR HER LIFE. 


447 


and prison, sorrow and absence, danger and delay, were 
all forgotten now! In this moment the world was a 
paradise for these dreaming lovers. And, I lingered still 
in its magic mazes, with my own happy counselor of the 
heart! There was a silent rapture in the moments, as 
they flew unheeded by, for the dark shadows of the sad 
winter were all rolled away far behind the portals of this 
happy day. The winds sweeping down from the crested 
Sierras sang a welcome to the “Star of Poland!” They 
breathed a blessing from on high upon these lovers so 
long parted. It was at last “through night to light!” 
Quand meme! 

A light foot was on the door step! “The woman” 
who had trusted me in my dark days entered. Stealing 
up to her wayward sister, the once imperious bright-eyed 
falcon, she saw that the last and greatest gift of God, 
the perfect love which abideth, had come to the impas- 
sioned wanderer! Arline, who had loved her own con- 
quered far off land, with the affection of all her gallant 
race, had found a new bond to life! 

Silken chains bound our beautiful wanderer now! The 
Star of Poland yielded to a Russian tyrant at last. Not 
the great Czar, but loyal Dimitri Trepoff! 

And, Trepoff at once proved himself a tyrant! For, he 
said, with a strange glance at Arline: “I am so happy 
at your arrival, Madame Grahame, for you have married 
one of the prison mates, and I wish you both to witness 
my marriage with the other!” In the silence, I saw 
that Arline Lazienska’s bosom was heaving now in a 
strange emotion, and her eyes, too, were downcast! 
“When does it occur, Colonel Trepoff?” said I, em- 
phasizing his new rank; for, I feared her self-abnega- 
tion — his future! “To-morrow !” he answered, with all 
a soldier’s prompt decision. A little hand stole into his, 
and I heard the whisper, “Dimitri! Your rank, your 
career!” I lingered near them, breathlessly waiting. He 
laughed happily as he drew both her hands to his lips 
and kissed them!” The pardon for Hermione de Vries 
was on its way to General Mouravieff, at Irkutsk, when 
you escaped; so, Luboff’s clumsy report will never leave 
Habarofka! For, you were legally free then, thanks to 


448 


FOR HER LIFE. 



the gentle Czarina ! But, if retaken, you would have for- 
feited all your rights to grace. Could you not have 
trusted me a month longer?” Arline smiled up, brightly 
and bravely, through her tears. “I wanted to leave you 
free, to continue your career! Now, I will not be your 
ruin! Think of what you give up for me! An Empress’ 
favor! The Czar’s confidence!” 

“I think that I can subject myself to the risk!” an- 
swered Trepoff. “For, I have a year’s special duty in 
Washington, and also, the imperial permission to marry 
Countess Arline Lazienska Oborska, who was never 
cooped up in the ‘polygon’ on the Neva!” She an- 
swered softly, “And, so then, I must really obey you, in 
your foolish eagerness!” She was standing now by his 
side, and I could not see her face, as he answered, “Most 
decidedly! I insist upon it! And, it is the only favor 
that I have ever asked of you!” It was an undeniable 
statement! And, then and there, before the new Amer- 
ican branch of her strange family, Arline looked up 
frankly into her lover’s eyes. She essayed to speak, 
while we all watched her little rebellion of a moment. 

“There is my hand!” she faltered; and, we stole out 
and left her clasped to his bosom, in her loving submis- 
sion to the brave soldier’s will! 


THE END. 



























































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































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